


Durin's Sons: Guardian

by butterflyslinky, Lady_Sci_Fi



Series: Durin's Sons (a rock band au) [3]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-30
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-04-12 00:15:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 48,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4457963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butterflyslinky/pseuds/butterflyslinky, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Sci_Fi/pseuds/Lady_Sci_Fi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miami, Florida. March 2010. Bifur takes an axe to the head while protecting the band. What follows is a long road to recovery, for him and his loved ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A prequel to Durin's Sons.

“Beware the wolves!” the four band members sang out in unison. Kili and Fili Durin held out the last note on their guitars. Nori Scriver did a few more chords on his bass. Bofur Mattocks did one last crash on his cymbal.

The song finished, and Bofur put down his drumsticks and hurried over to his keyboard to change the programmed song. While he was doing so, Fili and Kili were improvising a little riff to keep the audience in this bar entertained.

Bofur wasn’t sure how they had ended up in a dive bar in Miami of all places, since it was so far from St. Paul, and they were still in the garage band stage of their career. Though their first album, Ered Luin, was doing pretty well, so maybe travelling to Miami was a good sign. It meant people had heard of them, and wanted to hear them, even if this place wasn’t the fanciest. Maybe next time Thorin would get them someplace better in this city.

Bofur bobbed his head in tandem with the guitar-playing, and announced to the others, “Almost ready.”

He was so focused on the music, that he didn’t notice the shouts, only looking up when the guitars had stopped. All he saw was a flash of silver, and heard a cry of his name, before he was shoved to the side, and knocked to the floor. He was only dimly aware of his hat falling off, and covered his ears at the sudden discordant sound of several keys being pressed and held down on his keyboard.

When Bofur looked up to see who had shoved him, his hands dropped from the sides of his head, and everything seemed to stop at the sight that met him.

His cousin, Bifur, standing perfectly still, hands grasping the edge of the keyboard so hard the knuckles were white. He stared straight ahead, a thick wooden rod attached to something else sticking out of his forehead. Blood poured from around the object, down his face and raining down to stain the white keys below him crimson.

Bofur couldn’t look away, the shouting and sounds of a struggle going unheard. The only sounds reaching his ears were his own heavy breathing, and the whimper from his cousin.

Then Bifur’s legs suddenly collapsed, and he dropped heavily to the floor. The wooden handle of the thing in his head caught the edge of the keyboard, and the axe came out with a horrifying squelching sound that somehow seemed louder than Bofur’s hammering heartbeat.

Bofur shot forward. He didn’t quite catch Bifur, but he did manage to stop the back of his head from striking the floor. He folded his legs under his cousin’s head and gathered him onto his lap. “Bifur? Bifur, please!” He noticed the other man’s hands shaking against the floor. He could feel every muscle of his body was so stiff. Shock, probably. And oh was all of this wrong. The blood gushing from the wound did nothing to hide the deep gouge in Bifur’s forehead.

Bofur quickly pulled off his thin hoodie and pressed it against the wound. And it felt so wrong. There was so much blood…

Bifur’s shaking right hand raised up, then dropped on Bofur’s on his chest. His eye that wasn’t covered by the blood and shirt, darted around, started to unfocus…

Bofur gripped Bifur’s hand and leaned in close, the smell of the fresh blood almost overwhelming. “No, no, no… Don’t you dare! Don’t you fucking dare!”

Bifur’s hand lightly squeezed the younger man’s fingers. He blinked and whimpered through clenched teeth, “Bofur…”

“I’m here. I’m here…” His cousin’s eye glazed over again. “No! Don’t you leave me!” Bifur’s grip on his hand slackened, and his entire body followed. Then his eye closed. Bofur raised his hoodie to see if the other had. He quickly pressed it back down, his heart somehow seeming to drop into his stomach and leap up into his throat at the same time. “No! You can’t do this! Don’t leave me! Open your eyes, Bifur… Please…” He dropped his head to rest his forehead against his cousin’s bloody one. “Don’t leave me… please, don’t…” he sobbed, tears streaming down his face.

All the sounds of the room came rushing back into Bofur’s awareness, but he didn’t respond to any of it. All that mattered was that his cousin was dying, or was already dead, in his arms. The cousin who, despite their ten-year age difference, had always been there, had always been more like an older brother. This was so very wrong…

Bofur didn’t even lift his head when three people fell to their knees at his side. Their hands fell on his unfeeling shoulder and back.

“Bofur? Bofur, he’s still breathing,” said Fili’s voice, soft and hopeful. “Look.”

Bofur opened his eyes and saw through half-blurred vision Fili’s hand on Bifur’s chest, next to his own. Their hands shallowly rose and fell. Nori’s hand joined his in pressing the hoodie on the wound in the older man’s head.

A particularly loud yell drew Bofur’s attention to a man who Dwalin, Thorin, and a couple bar patrons were holding down off the stage. “Is he…?”

“Yeah, he’s the one who… who…” Kili sounded so scared.

Balin rushed over to them, phone to his ear and obviously calling for an ambulance. He gestured for Bofur and Nori to lift the shirt from Bifur’s head, and told the person on the line the injury. His voice was calm and even, something that Bofur needed.

Nori stayed silent, though his hand on Bofur’s upper back started to rub in what was a slightly calming manner.

Bofur stared back down to Bifur. His usually optimistic nature failed him. How long could Bifur keep breathing? Surely he would bleed out soon. The ambulance couldn’t make it here in time. He had taken an axe to the head, for fuck’s sake. How was he even still breathing? Bifur was going to die in his arms, and there was nothing he could do about it…

“It all happened so fast,” Kili said, his voice still cracking with fear. “Everything was going great, and then… then-“

Fili gently hushed his brother. “He’s still alive. They’ve got that maniac away from us. An ambulance is on the way…”

Fili’s words drifted from Bofur’s awareness, as he focused on his cousin’s face, contorted in pain even though he was unconscious. Blood now matted the long black hair, trailing down the ponytail, spreading over Bofur’s jeans and pooling on the floor under them. “Bifur… don’t leave… Please, I couldn’t- I need… Please…” He cried, tears dripping off his nose to join the blood on Bifur’s face.

A new hand laid over Bofur’s and Nori’s on Bifur’s head. “He’s strong, lads. He’ll make it through,” Balin consoled as he put his phone in his pocket.

“What if he doesn’t?” Bofur and Kili replied in unison.

“He will. He’s still breathing, which means there’s hope, and we must hold on to that.”

Miraculously, Bifur was still breathing when the paramedics arrived. Bofur was in too much of a state of shock to say anything as they applied immediate care to him. Only when they got him on a stretcher to take to the ambulance did he speak. “Can I go with him? He’s my- my cousin. I-I need to be with him.”

The lead paramedic nodded, and answered Balin’s question of what hospital they were going to.

“We’ll be there as soon as we can,” Balin assured.

Bofur nodded and followed the paramedics into the back of the ambulance. He spent the entire ride silent and staying out of the way, only talking to answer any health-related questions he was asked about Bifur. He stared at his cousin, hoping he could feel his presence and hold onto the strength that had kept him alive this long.

Then the ambulance stopped and the paramedics opened the doors, rushing out with Bifur and into the emergency ward of the hospital. Bofur followed, but was told to stop at a certain point. He nearly sank to his knees on the smooth white floor as he watched them wheeling Bifur away past a set of doors. He staggered to the wall and covered his mouth with his hand to stifle his sobs.

Someone came to get him, and led him to a waiting area, where he told them his name and who he had come in with. He was offered coffee and given assurance that Bifur was in good hands. It didn’t do much to lift his spirits.

Bofur heavily sat down in a chair, and buried his face in his hands. Hands that were still stained red with Bifur’s blood. He had the thought to go get cleaned up in a bathroom, but somehow… he couldn’t move. His muscles locked up, and all he could do was cry.

Eventually, he had the need to talk to someone. He wiped a hand on his already bloodstained pants and took his phone from his pocket. His body started to shiver in the cool hospital atmosphere as his thumb clicked on one name. He swallowed as it rang twice before the person answered.

“Hey, Bofur. Listen, I’m in the middle of a paper right now, and-“

“Bombur?” Bofur’s voice cracked on his younger brother’s name.

“And… are you alright?”

“No… I-I’m…” Bofur’s throat clogged as he started to cry again.

“What’s wrong?”

“It’s… Bifur. Something happened, and he could- he could die, and I’m so scared, and-“ Bofur was barely intelligible through his sobs.

“Wait, slow down. What happened? I thought you guys were doing a performance tonight down there.”

“We were, but then… it all happened so fast. I-I’m at the hospital now, and I… I don’t know what’s going to happen to him.”

“Bofur, please, tell me what happened.” Bombur was obviously trying to keep his own panic in check.

Bofur couldn’t say anything else. His jaw locked up, and the stinging of hot tears became too much for his eyes. His phone slipped from his hand to his lap. Through his muffled sobs he heard his brother call his name a few times before hanging up.

“Please…” Bofur begged, as though Bifur could somehow hear him. “Please, don’t die… Don’t leave me… I love you. Please…”


	2. Chapter 2

Bofur looked up at the hushed call of his name, and saw Nori, Fili, Kili, and Balin hurrying across the lobby to him, maneuvering around the rows of chairs to sit by him, Fili and Kili on one side, and Balin and Nori on the other.

“You’re… you’ve still got…” Kili started, but couldn’t finish the sentence.

Nori held up a plastic bag. “We swung by the hotel and got you some clothes.” He rose, and took Bofur by the dried bloodstained hands. “Come on, I’ll help you get cleaned up.”

“What if a doctor comes out to tell me about Bifur and I’m not out here? I-I need to-“

Balin laid a comforting hand on Bofur’s back and interrupted, “You should get yourself cleaned up, alright? We’ll be out here if a doctor comes out, and we’ll tell them where you are.”

Nori tugged on Bofur’s hands again, and this time he got up and followed Nori to the bathroom, holding his hand tightly from anxiety and fear. Once inside and the door closed, Nori asked, “How are you doing?”

“It-it doesn’t really matter how I’m doing, does it? I’m not the one… not the one…” Bofur bit his lip to stop the sobs from coming forth and renewing his crying.

Nori took him over to the sinks. “We should… we should probably get you washed up first before changing clothes.”

Bofur’s eyes widened and his body stiffened as he saw himself in the mirror. There was so much blood, all dried now, on his hands, shirt, pants, and face. All of it Bifur’s. Bifur, who could be dying right now, who-

Nori pulled Bofur into a tight embrace, which broke the dam holding back the fresh tears and sobs. Nori simply held him without trying to verbally reassure him that Bifur would be okay. Bofur appreciated that, because if Nori did say that, and Bifur wasn’t… he wouldn’t be able to take it, not with raised hope. “I’m here,” Nori whispered in his ear instead. “We’re all here. You’re not alone.”

“I-I know,” Bofur choked out. They let go a moment later, and Bofur turned and stared down into a sink without catching sight of himself in the mirror again. He let the water run over his hands for a few seconds, watching the pink-tinged water drain away. Bifur’s blood slowly leaving his hands… Then he snapped from his trance and pumped soap into one hand and began to scrub at them. Even when they were clean, he kept scrubbing until Nori grabbed his hands to make him stop.

Nori noticed the way Bofur flinched and closed his eyes when he saw himself in the mirror, and volunteered, “I’ll do your face. Turn around.” Nori grabbed a few paper towels from the dispenser and dampened them. Bofur had turned around, slightly leaning back on the sink counter, his hands gripping the edge and straining his fingers.

Bofur barely reacted at the coldness when the towels touched his cheek and started lightly wiping at the bloodstains. He just stared at Nori’s chest. Nori didn’t try to get him to talk. Bofur would do that whenever he felt like it, especially since it was obvious he was still in shock.

Bofur suddenly seized the front of Nori’s shirt and held it tightly. Nori didn’t jump or back away, just continued wiping Bofur’s face until it was clean. “There, all done,” he said quietly.

Bofur let go and grabbed the bag on the counter, taking it into a stall. He quickly stripped out of his ruined clothes, stuffed them into the bag, and pulled on the fresh ones. He didn’t know if it made him feel any better, but at least now he wasn’t a walking horror show. Once he left the stall, Nori once again took his hand and led him back out to the lobby and their waiting friends.

“Nobody’s come out yet,” Fili reported.

“Um,” Bofur cleared his throat. “Thanks for… for coming, and…” his voice trailed off as Nori pulled him down to sit. The bag of bloody clothes dropped at his feet.

“Thorin and Dwalin will come as soon as they can. They’re still dealing with the police,” Balin said.

Bofur didn’t ask for any specifics. All that mattered was that Bifur was fighting for his life, and all he could do was sit here and wait for news. “Balin, could you… would you call Dad, Bombur, and Aunt Peg? I… I called Bombur before you got here, but I wasn’t… I wasn’t very coherent.”

“Bombur already called me, and I expect he’s already passed it onto the other two.”

“Thanks. I don’t think I could… could handle telling them. How did Bombur sound?”

“He… he held it together while I was telling him what happened.”

Bofur leaned forward and put his face in his hands. He couldn’t say anything else. Four hands came down on his shoulders and thighs to comfort him.

“We’re here for you, laddie,” Balin stated.

Without warning, Bofur moved to Balin’s side and curled up next to him. The older man put an arm around him and drew him in close. Bofur didn’t care that he looked like a lost and hurting child, because that’s exactly what he was inside. Then the other three curled up around them, and Bofur closed his eyes, surrounded by their love and support.

********

Thorin and Dwalin came in a little later, and quietly asked Balin if there was any news. Balin answered with a shake of the head and slightly tightened his hold on Bofur. They didn’t know how long they sat there, waiting.

Only when a doctor came out and called out Bofur’s name did the young man open his eyes and sit up properly. He quickly stood and asked, “Will he… will he make it?” Everyone else leaned forward in their seats, just as eager for the news.

“I’m Doctor Jones.” The doctor nodded in answer, “We’ve got him stabilized, though-“

“Oh, thank god he’s alive,” Bofur breathed, nearly collapsing back down to the uncomfortable couch from relief.

“Though… there are complications,” Jones finished.

“What do you mean? He’ll be alright, won’t he?”

“He’s out of the emergency care ward, and in intensive care. I’d rather we discuss things there, if you would prefer?”

Bofur clasped his hands together to stop himself from shouting at the doctor to just tell him what was wrong with his cousin. “If you- you think that’s best.” He glanced behind at his friends. “Can they come too? I-I don’t think I can handle this alone.”

“If you want. Now follow me.”

“You want us all there?” Thorin asked, seeming hesitant.

“Please,” Bofur nodded and hurried to keep in step with the doctor. Nori fell into stride with him and took his hand, squeezing it for a second for moral support before letting go.

Jones gestured for them to not speak loudly before he opened to door to a ward room and ushered them inside.

Bofur stopped at the first step inside, seeing Bifur in the white bed, unconscious and with a thick bandage wrapped around his forehead. A hand on his shoulder gave him the strength needed to continue, then he rushed to his cousin’s side, leaning over him. The others kept back a respectful distance, though Fili had needed to slightly pull back Kili from the bed.

“Oh, Bifur,” the distraught young man whispered, fisting his hands in the sheets at Bifur’s side, not wanting to touch him in case of accidently hurting him. At the assurance that he could from the doctor, he took one of Bifur’s hands in his, flinching at how unnaturally cool it was. Then he gingerly ran the fingers of his free hand through Bifur’s black hair, which had been cut very short to treat him. Far shorter than Bofur had ever seen it in his life. “You’re going to hate what they’ve done to your hair,” he choked out, trying to find something, anything to be lighthearted about.

“His personal things are in the drawer beside you,” Jones said quietly.

“When will he wake up?” Bofur asked.

“That’s part of the complications. We can’t say when he will.”

“It doesn’t have to be exact. Just an estimate? Please?”

Jones shook his head. “I’m sorry to say that he’s in a coma. There isn’t anything we can do about that, except make him comfortable.”

“He’s… he’s in a… No, he can’t be! He’s just asleep because he needs to so he can recover,” Bofur denied.

Balin broke away from the others to lay a hand on Bofur’s shoulder. “They’ll be doing everything they can for him.”

“I’m not going to leave him. Not when he’s…” Bofur clenched his jaw to stop himself from crying.

“We’re not saying you will,” Balin assured.

Thorin spoke up to ask, “You said this was only part of the complications?”

Fili held his brother’s arm when Kili unintentionally let out a whimper. Nori took a step towards Balin and Bofur, but stopped.

“With the possibility of him waking up, he won’t be the same. The injury to his head, what caused it?”

“A madman with an axe,” Dwalin answered.

“An axe?” the doctor repeated, somehow keeping too much surprise from his voice. “That would… certainly explain the injury.”

“What’s wrong with him?” Bofur demanded to know. “Please, tell me. I can take it.” He lowered his gaze to Bifur and added in a quieter voice, “I have to. What kind of person would I be if I couldn’t, after what you’ve done for me?”

“The… axe caused a lot of damage to his brain. Specifically the areas of language and impulse control. Though more was caused to the language center.”

“You’re saying he won’t be able to talk?” Bofur concluded, disbelieving. How could he even imagine such a thing? Bifur, who taught him to sing, would sing while they played on the keyboard together. Bifur, who always had something amusing to say with an easy smile. Bifur, who was always there to cheer him up with a kind word and reassuring smile. How could he possibly imagine Bifur mute and not able to do any of those things anymore?

“I’m sorry, Mister Mattocks, but that is what I’m saying. Of course, we won’t be absolutely certain until he awakens, but the damage done… it would never be reversible.” Jones took a breath. “Whatever state he’s in, it would be a long road to recovery, to say the least.”

Bofur fell to his knees onto the hard floor, his eyes squeezing shut as the tears began to fall to the white sheets below. Balin’s hand petted through his hair as he consoled, “Bofur, by all rights this should’ve killed him, but it didn’t. Bifur is strong. He’ll come through this. He won’t be alone. He… he knows that, and he’ll come through.”

Jones was quiet for a minute before lightly clearing his throat. “I’ll see that you all get chairs. And a nurse will probably come in to get any additional health information about Bifur.” Then he left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.

Nori got the chair in the opposite corner and brought it over to Bofur. Balin pulled the crying young man up to sit it in, and pushed it as close to the bed as it would go.

Bofur bent over until his forehead was touching Bifur’s hand. He had to focus on the good things. His cousin was alive and stable. But then the negative thoughts overtook him. What if Bifur never even woke up? And if he did, what condition would he be in?

“I’m sorry, Bifur. I-I’m so sorry…”


	3. Chapter 3

_“I wanna talk with Ma,” Bofur told his cousin. “Please?”_

_“I told you, she’s not feeling very well, which is why I’m taking care of you and Bombur today,” Bifur replied, taking a paper towel and wiping some smudged jelly from around Bombur’s mouth._

_Bofur pouted as he finished his lunch of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. The pouting deepened when Bifur announced it was naptime when they all finished eating. “I don’t wanna take a nap. I wanna go play with Nori and Fili and Kili.”_

_“And maybe I’ll take you to play, after your nap.” Bifur watched as Bombur got down from the chair and went to the living room to climb up on the couch. “Well, at least one of you is cooperating.”_

_“You don’t have to take naps, so why do I have to?” Bofur pointed out._

_“Because I’m sixteen, and you’re six.”_

_“Yeah, I’m six. I’m a big boy now.”_

_Bifur chuckled. “I don’t know… you look a little small to be a big boy.”_

_“I’ll be taller than you when I grow up.” Bofur stuck out his tongue._

_“Oh, will you now? I didn’t know you could see the future. But until then…” Bifur picked up the child and walked to the living room._

_“Bifur…” Bofur whined, squirming in his cousin’s arms._

_Bifur let out a sigh when Bofur grabbed at his ponytail and pulled out his hairtie in the process of being put down on the sofa. He raised his eyebrows when the child started staring at the carved fang piece._

_“You make this? I like it. Can I have one?”_

_Bifur shook out his hair and took the hairtie back. “Yeah, I did. Maybe when you’re older I’ll make you something. Now, I’ll be right back.” He left, and came back a minute later, hair back in his standard messy ponytail and with a couple of blankets. He was relieved to find that Bofur hadn’t wandered off, though he was now upside-down with his feet in the air, head over the edge, and arms crossed. “Good luck sleeping like that.”_

_“Not sleeping.”_

_“Sure you’re not.” Bifur spread a blanket over the yawning Bombur._

_“You have to take a nap too. That’s fair.”_

_“But I don’t need one.” Bifur smiled, then purposely tripped down to his knees, catching himself on the couch. “Okay, maybe I do.”_

_The two boys laughed, and Bofur turned himself back over. While there were other things Bifur did want to do while his cousins were napping, it wasn’t anything pressing. He spread out on the couch, and Bombur immediately crawled into the space between him and the cushions._

_“Yeah, you sleep with us,” the younger child agreed._

_Bofur put the second blanket around his shoulders and laid on top of the Bifur. After a few shifts of positions to be the most comfortable, it only took a short time for all three to fall asleep._

********

Bofur startled awake at the shake to his shoulder.

“Sorry,” Balin apologized. “But I thought you would like some breakfast.”

Bofur rubbed his eyes, and bit his lip when he saw that Bifur was still in the same state as when he had fallen asleep at his bedside. He also noticed that no one else was with them. “Where’d the others go?”

“Thorin convinced them to go back to the hotel after you fell asleep. I stayed.” Balin handed the tray of food to the young man. “A doctor will be here soon to check him over.”

Bofur massaged the back of his neck with a hand, then started to eat the oatmeal. While it wasn’t the most comfortable way to sleep, he was grateful the others hadn’t tried to wake him and take him back to the hotel. “You find a better way to sleep?”

“Not really, but don’t worry about me.”

Bofur laid his free hand on his cousin’s still unnaturally cool one. “How long are you going to sleep? You’re making us all worry.”

Doctor Jones came in with a nurse a little while after Bofur and Balin had finished breakfast. He sent them out to wait for the examination and care to be done.

Bofur felt his phone buzz, and he checked it. It was a text from his father, asking if there was any news. Bofur decided to wait until Jones was finished to reply. Then his dad said that Peg wasn’t taking this well. Bofur hadn’t expected her to, of course, and hoped his dad would be able to handle her. He wondered if it was worse being here with Bifur, or at home waiting for news.

He suddenly felt the need to get out. He hated hospitals, not that anyone really liked them, but Ori had spent some time in one, and his mother had died in one two years ago. The thought of history repeating itself became too much for him to bear. “I… I need some air.”

Balin nodded in understanding. “I’ll text you when the doctor is done.”

Once Bofur found his way outside to the hospital courtyard, he found a bench to sit, and buried his face in his hands. “Don’t die on me, Bifur. We’ve already lost Ma. I can’t… I can’t lose you too.”

They were supposed to leave Miami tomorrow, and go back home to St Paul in time for Kili to get back to his high school on time from his spring break. What were they going to do if Bifur didn’t wake up by then? Bofur, at least, would have to stay, and he wouldn’t ask any of the others to. But how long would he be able to stay? How long could they wait for Bifur to wake?

What kind of medical decisions would he have to be involved in? While he was sure that he wasn’t Bifur’s medical power of attorney, he would have to call Aunt Peg to figure out what to do. It wouldn’t be practical for her to come on such short notice without a concrete idea of what was going on. He hoped there would be some way for Bifur to be brought home, even in a comatose state. Perhaps being in a more familiar place would help him recover sooner.

Then there was the surge of guilt. This was his fault. He hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on around him. He had been too engrossed in the music from Fili and Kili. If he’d only been two seconds faster in knowing and reacting, Bifur wouldn’t be hurt. Bifur wouldn’t have had to take the blow for him. Bifur wouldn’t have had to take a literal axe to the head.

He knew the others would assure him that it wasn’t his fault, that all the blame lay with the madman. But his heart was still heavy with it, and no matter what would happen with Bifur, it would always have a presence there. Even in the best case, his cousin wouldn’t make a full recovery. How could he? A scar would be the least of their worries. Worst case scenario was Bifur would slip away…

Bofur’s thoughts were interrupted by his phone buzzing in his pocket. He read the message from Balin, but took another moment to mentally collect himself and wipe at his eyes, which had leaked tears without him noticing.

As soon as Bofur got back to Bifur’s room, he asked Jones, “Is he doing any better?”

“Mister Mattocks, it may be awhile before he makes any sort of progress,” Jones replied.

Bofur leaned into Balin’s comforting hand on his shoulder. “He hasn’t gotten any worse, has he?” He let out a breath filled with relief when the doctor shook his head. As he listened to Jones explain the results of the examination, all he could think of was that he didn’t want this doctor. There was nothing wrong with him, but he wanted Oin Farin to be here and taking care of his cousin.

Oin had always been there to tend to their medical needs. Sprained ankles, broken bones, anything that required more than a band-aid, he took care of. Bofur trusted him, knew he would do everything for Bifur, would give them moments of respite from their concerns with his sense of humour, would be honest but compassionate. Bofur needed someone he knew and trusted to look after Bifur, something he couldn’t get here.

“At least he isn’t getting worse,” Balin consoled after the doctor left.

“Yeah… that’s something to be grateful for,” Bofur sighed as he sat in the chair at Bifur’s side. He started running his fingers through the short hair, being mindful of the fresh bandage around the comatose man’s head. Then a morbid part of him wondered what the injury underneath looked like.

That only called up the sickening bloody sight that happened only the night before, and made nausea heavily roll in Bofur’s stomach. He hurried to the adjoining bathroom, nearly slamming the door shut in his rush. He vomited up some of his breakfast, and wondered how he had gone this long without being sick.

Bofur turned on the faucet and started filling his hands with water and splashing it onto his face. The night before? This horror had happened only the night before? His entire world felt as though it had been turned upside-down only the night before?

He lowered his hands from his face and looked into the mirror. The water droplets on his face and hands seemed to turn red, and he quickly squeezed his eyes shut. How was he supposed to get through this? How could he possibly recover from seeing Bifur stand still with an axe in his forehead, then suddenly crumple to the floor? Bifur’s head in his lap as he desperately tried to stop the bleeding with nothing but a thin hoodie? Bifur struggling to stay awake, and saying his name as he faded…

Bofur backed away from the sink until he hit the door, and slid down it to the floor. How was he supposed to go home without Bifur being there, as he always had been, safe and whole? He couldn’t have imagined it before, and now that it was happening… he still couldn’t. Losing his mother had been hard enough, but Bifur too?

Bofur jumped at the knock on the door, and scrambled up to his feet.

“You okay?” asked Fili’s voice through the door.

No, he wasn’t. How could he be? But he had to get out of the bathroom before he drowned in his fears and guilt. He opened the door and stepped out, and found himself immediately hugged by the other three bandmembers.

“I-I’m fine, as well as can be,” Bofur stammered. “I just… got a little sick is all.”

“You weren’t the only one,” Kili remarked with a shudder. “Still hard to believe…”

Bofur tried to give a small smile at his friends, but he definitely didn’t feel it inside. He wasn’t alone, he knew that. But the guilt was his. The worst of the nightmares sure to come would be his.

Bofur broke away from the others. “I should call my dad now. Fill him in.” As the phone rang, and he waited for his father to answer, he worried about what form the coming nightmares would take.


	4. Chapter 4

“Come on, lad, you need a break from here,” Balin said, placing a hand on Bofur’s shoulder to leave no room for argument.

Bofur tried to argue anyway, though when the others voiced their agreement with the older man, he had no choice but to give in.

“Don’t worry, we won’t leave Bifur alone while you’re gone,” Fili assured.

“Just to the hotel,” Balin said. “Give you a chance for proper rest and shower.”

“Alright, but not for too long,” Bofur replied.

Fili nodded to his brother. “Kili, go with them.”

Kili didn’t protest, and Bofur knew both reasons why Fili was sending Kili with them. One reason was moral support, the second was to have the teen spend as much time away from this as he could. It was already going to be difficult enough for Kili to go back to school in a few days, if he even managed to.

The drive back to the hotel was very quiet. Exhaustion suddenly hit Bofur, and he spent the ride slumped in the back seat with Kili. His gaze was aimed out the window, but he didn’t see anything, simply lost in his thoughts and memories. He didn’t even register that they had gotten to the hotel and parked until Kili tapped his shoulder. He got out of the car, and Balin’s hand on his back guided him in and up to the room the bandmates shared.

Bofur glanced around, everything somehow seeming so different. Fili and Kili’s guitar cases, and Nori’s bass case, were leaning against the wall, and he knew the instruments were inside. His keyboard case wasn’t here, and he sighed.

Kili fidgeted with the edge of his tshirt. “Your keyboard is still in the van. We… um… well, we think it’s ruined. I mean-“

Bofur snorted, “I wouldn’t want to play it again. I don’t even want to… to see it.”

“Try to relax. I know this is hard, but we cannot forget to take care of ourselves.” At the nod from both young men, Balin gave a small smile of assurance. “I’ll be in the other room, and will be back shortly.” He left, going across the hall to the room the four older men had.

Bofur let out a long breath, and went over to his suitcase, where he found his hat sitting on top. He picked it up and stared at it for a moment. Suddenly, he let out a wordless shout, throwing it across the room towards the door. He kicked his suitcase with another yell, before heavily sitting on the edge of a bed.

Bofur put his face in his hands as the tears threatened to fall. He barely reacted to Kili crawling onto the bed behind him, and putting his arms around him. He did start shaking at Kili whisper in his ear of, “We’ll make it through this. All of us, including Bifur. We’re here,” in a tone that somehow seemed to contradict his usual young spirit and appearance, in a way that covered up the current fear and anxiety. Bofur wasn’t sure if it was doing anything to comfort him, but he appreciated Kili nonetheless. He appreciated all of them, doing what they could in this trying time, like they had always done for each other.

After a few minutes, when Bofur was sure he wasn’t going to fully cry, he patted Kili’s forearm across his chest. “I should take a shower now.” Kili let go, and Bofur grabbed a set of clothes from his suitcase and headed to the bathroom. He stopped to pick up his hat from the floor and set it on a bed.

He let the water heat up until the mirror started to steam before getting in, closing his eyes and trying not to think of anything at all. He wasn’t successful.

********

A little time after arriving back at the hospital, Doctor Jones came to speak to Bofur in private, and took him to his office. Bofur didn’t ask if he could bring someone else with him for moral support, even though it was obvious any of the others would gladly accompany him if he asked.

Jones closed the door behind them, and Bofur took a seat at the desk. The doctor sat on the other side, a neutral expression on his face.

“Is this anything bad about Bifur?” Bofur blurted out.

Jones shook his head. “No, he’s still stable, and I don’t see that changing. We need to talk about what we are going to do about him. You said you all live in Minnesota?”

“Yeah, St. Paul.”

“His mother as well?”

“Yeah.”

“Could you get her on the phone? She is the one who can legally make these decisions.”

Bofur pulled out his phone, knowing his aunt should be home, though he wouldn’t know what state she might be in. With a little exhale, he pressed the call button and waited. Two rings was all the time it took. “Hey, Aunt Peg. It’s… it’s me. Um… I’m with the doctor who’s been taking care of Bifur, and-“

A rapid and shaky stream of Gaelic cut Bofur off. Peg was still upset, and whenever she was emotional, she often slipped into Gaelic. Bofur could barely understand it, since it was so fast and he hadn’t kept up with learning it.

Bofur looked to Jones and apologized. “I have to calm her down first.” Then he went to trying to be heard through the phone over his aunt’s outburst. It took a long minute to get her calm enough to start speaking slower and in English. Then he put it on speaker mode, put the phone down on the desk, and picked up from where he had been interrupted. “The doctor wants to talk to us about what we’re going to do next about Bifur.”

“Are you fine to talk now, Mrs Smith?” Jones asked.

Peg made a noise that sounded like clearing her throat. “Yes, I’m… I can.”

“Because you don’t live here in Miami, or anywhere near here, I can arrange for Bifur to be sent up to your local hospital.”

“You can do that?” Bofur and Peg replied in unison.

“It will take a couple of days to arrange it and make certain Bifur is stable enough and ready for the transportation, but yes, we can do it.”

“Would it be possible for me to travel with him?” Bofur asked. “I wouldn’t want to leave him.”

“I’ll make sure you can. There should be enough space for you.”

“If you could do that, doctor, I’d be very-“ Peg cleared her throat again, though it didn’t mask the rising emotion. “Very grateful. It… it would be good for him to travel with you, Bofur. Might help.”

Jones spent the rest of the time in his office telling Peg what she would have to do on her end to make arrangements, what they could expect, and other details of Bifur’s condition. When Bofur left the office and went back to Bifur’s room, he slowly sank down into a chair.

“What was it?” Nori was first to ask.

“Some good news. They can bring Bifur home, to a hospital close to us. It’ll take a couple days to arrange it, and I would be travelling with him.”

“At least he won’t have to stay here,” Dwalin said.

“It won’t take us long to get there. They’ll fly us home.”

“You’ll be alright by yourself? We’re supposed to be leaving tomorrow morning,” Fili said.

“Yeah… yeah, I can handle it. It’s just for a couple days. They can only let one person go with him, so there’s no point in you all hanging around.”

They sat in quiet for a few minutes before Kili hesitantly asked, “Can we go to the beach? Just to… clear our heads or something?”

“I’ll take them, and we’ll get dinner,” Dwalin said to Thorin.

“Go ahead. We’ll be here if anything happens,” Thorin approved.

There was no running around or playing in the sand and water at the beach, just a quiet sitting together and watching the sun set.

********

Bofur rolled his suitcase into Bifur’s hospital room, running his other hand over his face. The others followed him inside to say goodbye.

“You take care of yourself while you’re here,” Balin said.

“I think I can manage that,” Bofur replied as Balin pulled him into a hug. He tried to keep his voice light, but it cracked at the end.

Nori hung back to let everyone else hug Bofur, and say a few words to the unconscious Bifur, goodbye before going up and pulling him into the tightest embrace. Bofur didn’t think he could cry any more after all the crying he had already done since Bifur was injured, but a fresh wave of tears leaked from his eyes, and he buried his face into Nori’s neck.

“I don’t want to leave you here,” Nori whispered.

“I know, but it won’t be for long. I’ll be… we’ll be home soon enough.” They held onto each other for another few seconds before letting go, Bofur immediately wiping his eyes. They turned to the bed to find Thorin still at Bifur’s side, bent over and speaking too softly for them to hear.

Thorin got up a moment later, and reluctantly asked, “Are we all ready to go?”

“As ready as we can be, I guess,” Fili answered for all of them.

Bofur stared after them as they left the room, and stayed still for a long moment. Then he turned and sat in the chair at Bifur’s side. He started stroking through his cousin’s hair. “We’re going to go home in a couple days. They’ll all be waiting for us… for you to wake up and be okay. Think you can do that for everyone? For your ma, for my dad, for Bombur? For me? I-I’m so sorry. Please… don’t leave us.”

After a few silent minutes, Bofur opened the drawer beside him that contained Bifur’s things. He hadn’t touched it before, but now that he knew they would be going home, he would have to take them.

Wallet, keys, phone. Out of curiosity, Bofur tried to turn the phone on, but it was out of battery power. He didn’t bother to check the wallet before putting all three items down on top of his suitcase. He reached into the drawer to grab the fourth item, and his hand stopped halfway there.

Bifur’s black hairtie with the carved animal fang decoration. With a deep inhale, Bofur took it from the drawer and started to stare at it in the middle of his palm. He was grateful the doctor’s hadn’t thrown it out when they had cut off most of Bifur’s hair. He looked from the hairtie to his cousin’s face. “I hope you wake up before you need this again.”

With a sigh, Bofur opened Bifur’s hand and pressed the object into his palm, then curled the fingers around it and laid his own hand over his cousin’s.


	5. Chapter 5

Bofur couldn’t really sleep, despite his emotional fatigue. He wanted to, but his mind simply wouldn’t let him. He was also afraid of nightmares, of reliving this in his dreams. It was difficult enough to be at Bifur’s bedside. To go through it again, even in memory form, would be too much.

So he spent his time doing everything he could to not think of it, and trying to do anything to comfort his injured cousin. Jones had said that Bifur might be able to hear him, so Bofur sang softly to him, talked to him. He couldn’t allow himself to fall into despair. It could take a while for Bifur to wake up, but that knowledge didn’t make it any easier for every hour to pass without any sign of encouragement. The quietness only served to unnerve Bofur more.

Bofur did call his friends and family at home, needing someone to talk to. Bombur was home now, on his spring break from his first year of college. It was unreasonable to think so, but what if Bombur blamed him for this? Would any of them blame him? Say it was his fault for not paying attention to an approaching madman with an axe?

Whether or not anyone else did, Bofur blamed himself. Being here, the only one here with Bifur, gave that guilt time to start eating away at him. If he had been paying attention, if he had been faster, if… if… if… It didn’t matter now.

He needed to try to focus on the positive. It had been a miracle that Bifur had even stayed awake in his arms as long as he had. It had been a miracle that he had survived, and was still alive now. Bifur was strong. If he had survived this long, he would have to keep doing so, and wake up.

Except it wasn’t as simple as that, and Bofur knew it. So much could still happen, for the negative. And if- no, when- Bifur woke up, he wouldn’t be the same. How different would he be? Bofur couldn’t imagine his cousin being any different. Knowing that, at the very least, he wouldn’t be able to talk was bad enough.

Whatever ended up happening, Bofur would be there for him every step of the way. He owed Bifur that much.

********

The flight in the medical transport plane to St Paul was like any other plane ride, yet completely different. Bofur kept to himself, not wanting to talk to the medical personnel about anything other than how Bifur was doing. He tried to sleep, but still couldn’t. And the last thing he wanted to do was wake up in some sort of panic attack from a nightmare.

They landed at the airport, and Bofur called his father to tell them so before they were transferred to a special van to the hospital nearest to their home. Brian, Bombur, and Peg would meet them at the hospital after Bifur was settled in.

Bofur accompanied Bifur to his new room. After the medical staff settled him in and left, he moved a chair to the bedside and sat, grabbing his cousin’s hand. “We’re home now. As close to home as you’re allowed to be, at any rate.” He let out a long breath. “Listen… your ma will be here soon, along with my dad and Bombur. You’re probably sick of just hearing my voice, so maybe they’ll be some extra motivation for you.” He leaned in close. “Seriously though… they’re afraid, and so am I. Don’t make us wait too long? Please? I couldn’t bear it, especially since this is all my fault, and…” He forced himself to stop that line of thought.

Bofur slid the fang hairtie from his wrist, where he had been wearing it to keep it safe and visible at all times. He held it against the palm of Bifur’s hand for a moment. “I’m going to leave this with you,” he said before put it on the bedside drawer.

He sat with Bifur a few more minutes, hand going to stroke through his hair, before his phone buzzed in his pocket. He read the text from his father saying that they were here and in the waiting area. “They’re here now.” He took a deep breath to prepare himself for seeing the rest of his family again, and stood.

Each step he took to the waiting area seemed slow and too loud. He had talked to all of them of course, but now having to face them… He froze when he reached the waiting area and saw them, sitting together. Peg was staring straight ahead. Brian and Bombur were on either side of her, a hand each on her shoulders.

The spell was broken when Brian looked up and saw his son. He nudged the other two, and all three quickly got up. Bofur rushed forward and met them in a tight group embrace. Bofur tried not to cry, he really did, but he couldn’t hold it back. He wasn’t the only one.

No one said anything until they let go. Peg wiped at her eyes and asked, “Which room is… is…?”

Bofur told her the number and which way it was, and she immediately left them. Bombur started to follow her, but Brian held him back. “Let her have some time alone with him,” he advised. He turned to Bofur and took his face in his hands. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

Bofur simply nodded. There was no point in denying it.

“You haven’t been eating enough, either.”

“Haven’t really been hungry.” Bofur broke away from his father to slump down into a chair. “As for sleeping… how can I?” Bombur sat next to him and put a comforting hand on his back. Bofur sniffed and stared down at his hands. “The… You know what the last thing I heard Bifur say?”

Brian kneeled down in front of Bofur and took his hands. He gently squeezed as he looked into Bofur’s face.

“My… my name. Twice. Just before he pushed me out of the way. Then when I was… I was holding him, trying to do anything to keep him awake and stop the blood, right before he… he…” Bofur swallowed. “So much blood… then his eyes closed, and he… he hasn’t opened them yet. And if he does, he won’t be able to say anything again.” He leaned to the side into Bombur’s side-embrace. “Sometimes, when I close my eyes, I can see it all again. I hear him saying my name. I’m afraid to sleep for very long, because I don’t want… I don’t want to relive it.” He bit his lip. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry for all this. I-“

Brian rose enough to hold Bofur tightly. “Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t beat yourself up for this happening. Nobody blames you. Not one person. Not me, or Bombur, or your aunt, or any of the others.

“This isn’t your fault,” Bombur assured. “And… Bifur, he’s always looked after us. He’s not going to blame you when he wakes up.”

“Maybe.” Bofur took a shuddering inhale to calm himself. “How… how’s Aunt Peg been doing?”

“I think as well as can be expected.” Brian let out a sigh. “She went off on Thorin when he came around, yelling at him in Gaelic. Poor man didn’t even understand a word she was saying. If she sincerely blames anyone for this, it’s Thorin.”

“I don’t think I could really blame him,” Bofur replied. “I mean, yeah, maybe he didn’t check the place before booking us there, but you can’t predict an axe-wielding madman.” He couldn’t help the bitter humorless laugh. “That would be ridiculous to think could happen.”

The family sat there in quiet for a few minutes until Bombur asked, “Dad, can we go see him now?”

Brian nodded, then turned to Bofur and said, “You don’t have to go back in with us.”

Bofur shook his head. “No, I will.” He rose from his seat. “This way.” He led them to the room, but didn’t push the ajar door open to enter. Brian knocked, softly enough to not be startling, and Peg invited them in, her voice cracking on the words.

Bofur hung back as his father and brother went to the other side of Bifur’s bed. His aunt was holding Bifur’s hand up to her mouth as she stroked his hair. Her soft words, interrupted with sobs, were in Gaelic, just like her emotional sad words had been two years ago, except then they were directed at her sister instead of son.

Bombur lowered his head to Bifur’s shoulder, his tears dampening the thin fabric of the hospital gown. “Wake up…” he pleaded. “Wake up, don’t be like this.” He raised his head when Brian put an arm around his shoulders. Brian didn’t say anything, but his eyes also shined with tears.

Bofur went to Peg’s side and pulled her into a sideways hug. He couldn’t cry any more, and watched the rest of his family as they did.

They all looked to the door, startled by the knock on the open doorframe. Oin gave them his best comforting smile and walked in. “I came as soon as I could,” he said. “I will tell you that I’m not assigned to him, but I will check in on him when I can, and keep you apprised of anything.”

Bombur and Brian moved back to give Oin space to look the comatose man over. Brian said, “It’s good to know he’ll have a familiar friendly face checking on him.”

“What do you think?” Peg asked when Oin finished his quick examination and looked at the written notes left from Doctor Jones in Miami and the medical personnel on the transport flight.

“I know you don’t want to hear this, especially from me. But this is a wait and see situation.” Oin went over to the other side of the bed. Bofur moved out of the way to let him kneel in front of Peg and take her hands. “But you know that we’ll do everything we can to help him and make him comfortable. You know I will. “

Peg threw her arms around Oin and buried her face in his neck. “I-I just want my son to… to-“

“I know.” Oin started to rub the woman’s back. “We all want him to come back. Everyone does. We’re all behind you, and giving as much love and support as we can.” He gently pushed her back enough o look into her face. “But you have to remember this. He’s alive. He survived something that should have killed him. That means he’s strong, and he was the will to come through this. We just… have to wait for him to.”

Peg nodded and tried to take a few breaths to calm her sobs. It helped, a little.

Oin stayed with them until he was called away. A few minutes after that, Brian told his sons that they should head home now. Bofur and Bombur didn’t protest. Though Bofur wanted to stay, he knew he needed to go home. He knew he needed some time away from Bifur.

“Peg?” Brian prompted.

Peg shook her head. “I’ll… I’ll probably catch a ride home when Oin gets done.”

Bofur grabbed his suitcase and backpack from the corner, and joined his father and brother as they left the room, and the hospital.

He managed to eat a few bites of leftovers in the fridge, on Brian’s insistence, before going to his bedroom and falling backwards onto his bed.

It had only been a week since he had last been home, but it felt as though it had been much longer than that. And how much longer would it be, and feel like, before Bifur woke up, if he did?

Bofur suddenly felt the exhaustion wash over him, and he closed his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

_“Well that’s not a face I see on you often,” Bifur commented as he got out of his car and walked up to the porch, where Bombur was sitting on the bench, upset and pouting. “Something happen at school?” Bifur knew the drama of a ten-year-old was minor compared to the stresses of being twenty-two, but it was important all the same._

_“Yeah,” Bombur sighed. He hadn’t told his mother what was bothering him yet. His dad wasn’t home from work yet to tell, either._

_Bifur sat next to his cousin and placed his backpack down on the ground. “Want to tell me about it?”_

_Bombur sighed. “It’s stupid.”_

_“How about you tell me before we make that judgment?”_

_“Well… in class today, we had to talk about our hobbies and stuff. A bunch of the boys made fun of me when I said I like cooking. They said its really girly to like that.”_

_“So cooking is girly, huh? What did the teacher do?”_

_“She told them to stop, but then they teased me at recess about it. I’m supposed to like playing football and cool cars and stuff.”_

_Bifur put his arm around the child and pulled him in close. “Well, first of all, cooking isn’t just a girl thing, just like looking at cool cars isn’t just a boy thing. But you want to know a secret that those boys don’t know?”_

_“What?” Bombur looked up, eager to know._

_“A lot of the chefs at fancy restaurants are men.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Mhm. Which means people pay them lots of money to cook for them.”_

_The seemed to lighten Bombur’s mood instantly. “I don’t think I want to be a fancy chef when I grow up, but that’s cool.”_

_“Whatever you like, don’t let anyone bring you down about it, especially for a stupid reason like ‘it’s girly.’ Don’t pay them any mind.”_

_Bombur nodded. “Okay.” He looked down at Bifur’s backpack. “Do anything awesome in your classes today?”_

_Bifur chuckled and picked up his backpack to get his most recent in-progress woodworking project from it. “Well, I certainly hope so, since I’m graduating soon.”_

_“Oh, I forgot, Bofur got into your carving stuff again.”_

_Bifur sighed and shook his head. “I’m really going to have to convince your ma to get him his own tools. He’s old enough now. I got my own when I was younger than him.” He held up his project. “Anyway, what do you think?”_

********

Bofur was quiet on the drive to Bifur’s apartment. His father, with his aunt’s help when she could bear it, had been working on taking care of Bifur’s various affairs before they had returned from Miami. It was only a couple days since then, but they had already scheduled with the apartment complex to move his stuff out and back to his old bedroom at the family house. The big furniture would be put in a storage warehouse.

They weren’t alone. Nori, Fili, Dwalin, Thorin, and Gloin were also coming to help, to make this go by quickly. Brian had sent Bombur to do something else, that he thought would be less stressful. He had also told Bofur that he didn’t need to come if he didn’t feel like he could, or didn’t want to. Bofur had insisted, so here he was.

They pulled up to the apartment complex. Bofur quickly jumped out of the moving van and opened the back to grab some empty boxes. Dwalin pulled up behind them in his car with Thorin, Fili, and Nori. Gloin would be along a little later.

Bofur shuddered when Brian unlocked Bifur’s apartment and pushed the door open. This felt wrong in a way, coming in here to take all the stuff out, without Bifur here. But he swallowed past that feeling, and went to the small studio workroom. Nori started going through the fridge to throw things into a trashbag, Fili went to the kitchen with a box, and the older men started discussing the best way to move all the furniture out. Bofur was able to just tune everything else out, trying not to think about what they were doing. He did spend a couple minutes just looking at the unfinished carvings and statues, wondering if Bifur would ever get the chance to finish them. His hand unconsciously came up to feel his carved fang earring. Then he focused and started packing them up.

That focus only lasted a few minutes. The sudden loud discordant sound, that of several piano keys being pressed down at once, pierced into his ears. He dropped what he was holding and clapped his hands to his ears in a vain attempt to block it out. The actual sound didn’t last long, only a few seconds, but it lasted much longer in Bofur’s mind as the memory of that terrible night flooded back.

He came back to his senses, within what could’ve only been a few seconds., crouching down with his hands still firmly over his ears. He slowly moved them away, and stood, taking a few deep breaths. But he now felt trapped in here, trapped in a room where everything reminded him of that night, of his cousin still comatose, and…

He had to get out, get away from everything.

Bofur hurried from the room, past everyone else without saying a word, though they shouted after him. He ran down the flight of stairs, and to the apartment parking lot, pushing past Gloin on the way out the door, ignoring the man’s confused call of his name.

He pushed up the back of the moving truck and crawled in. For a second, he considered closing it, but decided he didn’t want to be in complete darkness. That would make this worse.

He thought he couldn’t cry any more, but he was wrong, because the tears started to fall and sobs caught in his throat. How was he supposed to deal with this? Losing his mother had been hard enough. What if Bifur never woke up? How long could he deal with that? Deal with Bifur being like that? Deal with knowing it was his fault Bifur was like that? What if Bifur just slipped away?

Bofur didn’t respond to the sound of his father calling out for him, asking where he was. His father’s voice, one that he wished to be Bifur’s. One that even if Bifur did wake up, he would never hear again. A sad hysterical laugh pushed its way through the sobs, loud and jarring. It didn’t stop, and he put his hands over his face. The laugh didn’t cease until Brian found him, and then it dissolved into pure sobs again.

Brian climbed in with him, kneeling in front of him. “Bofur? What happened?”

“That sound…” Bofur answered, shaking his head.

“You mean when Dwalin tripped over the piano stool and caught himself on the piano keys?”

Bofur nodded.

“I should’ve insisted you stay home or go with your brother,” Brian sadly sighed. “What happened?”

“I-I’m sorry. I thought… I thought I could handle this.” Bofur cried harder when his father pulled him into a tight embrace. “It’s just… that was the sound… the sound when Bifur… when he was standing there with an axe in his head. He was… he was trying to hold himself up on my keyboard… blood flowing down his face… And then the sound was gone as he fell to the floor…”

Brian started to gently rock his distraught son side to side, making soft shushing sounds. “I’m sorry, Bofur. I am so sorry. You’ve been dealing with this longer than the rest of us. I am so sorry for that. You were there when it happened, and you stayed with him until you two could come home.”

“I wasn’t… I couldn’t leave him-“

“I know. I know you wouldn’t.”

“Not when he got hurt because… because of me. Protect- protecting me.” Bofur tried to swallow past the lump in his throat as Brian’s arms tightened around him. “This is all… this is all so wrong, you know? Going through his things, packing them up? But he’s… he’s not dead. He’s… he’s not. But what we’re doing… it makes it feel like… I don’t know.” Bofur felt his father’s body start to shake.

“I know. I know it feels wrong.” Brian said, not successful in hiding the fact that he was now crying as well. “I love him too, so much. We all do. But… some things need to be done, especially since we… we don’t know… But, we have to hope that he’ll be strong, that he’ll come back to us.”

“I-I thought… I hoped maybe Ma could, but then she-“

“I know. But this isn’t like that. She was… she was strong too. She held out, as long as she could. She held on, for us, as long as she could.” Brian took a breath. “But this… this isn’t like that. Bifur… he’s survived the hard part. He survived what should’ve killed him. He just… he needs a little time to come back. And when he does, we’ll be here for him. You, me, everyone.”

The two stayed like that for a few minutes, until Brian pulled back to wipe his eyes. “I don’t want to leave you alone, but I should probably get back up there. You can stay out here as long as you need. Would you like me to send Nori or Fili down to be with you?”

Bofur cleared his throat. “No, it’s fine. I’ll be… I’ll be alright.” He took a shuddering breath. “I’ll just get in the front so I’m not in the way.”

“Okay.” Brian kissed Bofur’s forehead before jumping down. He gave Bofur the truck key, then pulled him into another hug before heading back up to Bifur’s apartment.

Bofur got into the passenger seat and closed his eyes, calming his breathing and working through all the emotions that had been overwhelming him.

********

Bombur walked through the doors of the community center, where Bifur worked as a piano teacher, and almost immediately turned around and went back out. He had assured his father that he could handle doing this, but now that he was actually here, he didn’t know if he could.

He walked further in, and put a hand on the side of a vending machine to force himself to not go running back out. He was here now, so he had to do it. It was the least he could do to help settle Bifur’s affairs while everyone else was out packing up his apartment.

He took a step towards the front desk, muttering, “Keep it together,” repeatedly until he got there.

The clerk recognized him and smiled when she looked up. “Hey, Bombur. Been awhile since I’ve seen you around here.”

“Yeah… um..” Bombur wished she hadn’t started with the niceties. “Been keeping busy. Freshman year at college and all.”

“Oh, right. How’s that going?”

“As… as well as can be expected. No classes that are too hard, yet.”

The clerk nodded with a little chuckle. “Good. You on spring break now?” At Bombur’s nod, she asked, “I have a note here from the person who was on shift this morning. He tried to call Bifur to tell him he didn’t have to come at his normal time, because his first two students today cancelled. He left a voicemail. I assumed he got it, since he didn’t come in. But he’s still not here, and his next one is going to be here soon. It’s not like him to arrive right on time or late. Would you know anything? I know he went to Miami last week, but he’s supposed to be back now.”

Bombur ran his hand through his hair. “Well, I’m… I’m actually here about that.” He clenched his hands into fists and put his arms on the counter, trying not to break down. “He’s… he’s back from Miami, but…” He needed to say it now, or he would run out the door. “Something happened to him there, something really bad.”

The woman rose from her chair. “Oh my god, will he be okay? What happened?”

“We… we don’t really know if he’s going to be okay or not. He’s um…” Bombur slid his arms off the desk as his hands started trembling. “He’s in a coma right now.” He closed his eyes and bit his lip. “And… and if-when, when he wakes up, he won’t be able to talk, along with some other possible changes we don’t know. It’s… it’ll take him a while to recover.”

“Oh my god… I’m so sorry.”

“So… I guess you should tell his students that he… he won’t be able to teach. And, maybe look into finding someone else to teach piano here? I mean-“ Bombur’s rambling was cut off as the clerk hurried around the desk and hugged him.

“If there’s anything we can do for you guys, anything at all, let us know.”

“We will.” Bombur pulled away, with a watery smile.

“Take care of yourselves, alright?”

Bombur nodded. “We’ll try. Right now we’re just waiting for Bifur to wake, you know?”

“Okay.” The clerk went back to her side of the desk. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of contacting his students, and whatever else needs to be done.”

Bombur nodded stiffly. “Thanks. We appreciate it.” He turned away from the clerk and let out a long breath. He started walking to the seating area when a mother and daughter approached the desk to sign in. He heard the clerk say to them “Oh, I’m sorry, but we just received some unfortunate news about Bifur…” and walked faster.

He slumped down in one of the comfortable chairs and put his face in his hands. He suddenly felt very tired, like he had run a distance. Though if he was emotionally spent from just doing this, he couldn’t imagine what his brother was going through. To have actually been there when it happened and be with him until they came home… Bombur didn’t know if he could’ve done that. He would’ve tried, of course. But Bifur had always been the one comforting him, not the other way around.

“Bombur?” asked a familiar voice.

Bombur raised his head, quickly wiping away the tears that had started to collect on his face. “Oh, hey, Ori. You’re… you’re still doing art stuff here?”

Ori nodded and adjusted his backpack on his shoulders. “Just got done. Dori will be here to pick me up in a few minutes.”

Bombur grunted a reply. Ori sat next to him, and pulled him into a sideways hug.

A few minutes later, Dori arrived. “Hey, Bombur. I… I thought you would be at Bifur’s place with the others.”

Bombur separated himself from Ori and shook his head. “No, I came here to… to tell them about… well, you know.”

“Oh, right.” Dori looked like he was about to kick himself for not realizing that. “Have you had dinner yet?”

“No?”

“Ori and I are going to walk down the street for some food before heading home. You could join us.”

“Come with us, please?” Ori agreed.

Bombur considered refusing. He didn’t know if he was really up for being with company. But he knew he needed it, and he couldn’t deny the fourteen-year-old giving him a reassuring little smile. “Alright, lead on.”

********

That night, after everyone had left the house from helping move Bifur’s stuff back into his old room, Bofur and Bombur found themselves sitting together on the porch bench. They didn’t talk, didn’t say a single word. They leaned on each other, arms around each other, simple listening to the nighttime sounds. Each lost in their own similar thoughts of dread, grief, and hope.


	7. Chapter 7

Bombur had to go back to school, Brian and Peg both had to go back to work, life had to go on. But not for Bofur. He spent as much of the next sixteen days at his cousin’s bedside as he could emotionally handle, though he was probably pushing past that threshold by this point. His father and aunt would of course visit Bifur as much as they could, but Bofur was there the most.

Sixteen days since coming back home, and no sign of change. The point of injury was healing nicely, according to the doctors, but he still showed no sign of recovery from the coma.

Bofur raised his head from the white sheets when he felt the slight shift of the mattress. It couldn’t have been him, because he hadn’t moved in his half-dozing state. It only left one possibility, though he really tried not to get his hopes up too much.

“Bifur?” he asked, staring into the comatose man’s face. At the lack of response for a long minute, he was about to dismiss it as his mind needing to have some sign and imagining it. But then he felt the sheet near him move, and looked down.

Bifur’s hand was moving, the fingers spreading out and pressing down. Bofur watched, eyes wide, as those fingers curled back in and grasped at the sheets. He tentatively placed his hand over Bifur’s, and gasped as the other man’s fingers shifted to wrap around his own. The grip was weak, not at all the strength he always associated with his cousin, but it was something.

Bofur kept his hand still and rose from his chair to lean over Bifur’s face. “Come on,” he encouraged. “Don’t stop there. Come back. Please.” He heart sank as Bifur’s grip on his hand loosened. “No, no, no… Come on.” He bit his lip. “I know you’re a heavy sleeper, but this is ridiculous,” he said, trying to keep his tone light. He raised his free hand and started stroking through the black hair.

“Yes…” Bofur breathed as his cousin’s hand tightened around his again. Then a sound, a low-pitched moan, came from Bifur’s mouth as it slightly opened. Another one followed, and Bifur’s eyelid’s fluttered. They then opened, revealing the green eyes. Unfocused though they were, Bofur was elated to finally see them.

“Bifur?” At the lack of physical or verbal response, Bofur added, “Can you… can you hear me?”

Bifur turned his head in response, but his eyes remained clouded. Bofur smiled, and brought their linked hands up between them. A few more blinks cleared the older man’s eyes enough to obviously see Bofur’s face, though he seemed more confused than anything.

Then Bifur’s breathing started to quicken and his eyes widened. His hand tightened on Bofur’s.

Bofur pressed the nurse call button on the side of the bed before running his hand through Bifur’s hair and making soft soothing sounds. “It’s alright. You’re safe. We’re not in… we’re not there anymore. We’re home.” It only took a short moment to calm him. When a nurse came in, Bofur said, “He’s awake.”

“I’ll get a doctor,” she replied, and hurried out.

Bifur had ignored her presence completely, all his attention on Bofur. He tried to lift his other hand, but only got it a few inches off the bed before it fell. Bofur reached over and took it. With that assistance, he was able to bring his hand up to Bofur’s face. His hand slipped down for a second before Bofur held it more firmly, the palm of Bifur’s hand to his cheek. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a hoarse grunt.

Bofur realized what Bifur was doing as the older man’s eyes flickered up and down his face and neck, and couldn’t help the short laugh, though tears did also well in his eyes. Then he said, “I’m fine, Bifur. You’re the one in the hospital bed, and you think I’m hurt?”

Apparently satisfied that Bofur was not injured, Bifur let his hand drop down across his stomach, breathing heavily as though he had run. He tried to speak again, resulting in a growl. He immediately closed his mouth, then opened it again, failing to say words. His lips weren’t even moving in a purposeful way to actually say anything.

Bofur closed his eyes for a few seconds, and took a breath. He did not want to be the one to tell his cousin that he wouldn’t be able to speak again. He would let someone else do that. “Hey, it’s alright. You just need a little time. You- you just woke up.”

A doctor came in, the one who was assigned to Bifur, Dr Miller. Bofur had been here a few times when Miller checked on Bifur’s vital signs and the healing of the head injury. Bifur didn’t turn his head to the doctor, keeping his eyes on Bofur only.

“You… you do realize where you are, right?” Bofur quietly asked.

Bifur tried to verbally answer, and gave up with a frustrated snort. He weakly tilted his head down, then back up in a nod. He flinched when the other person in the room spoke.

“That’s a good sign,” Miller said, jotting something down on her clipboard.

“Bifur, this is Dr Miller. She’s been looking after you since we… since you… Oin has been, too, but he’s not officially assigned to you.”

“It’s nice to see you finally awake,” Miller greeted as she pulled up a chair at Bifur’s side.

Bifur looked to her, and Bofur noticed his eyes unfocus for a moment before they cleared again.

“We’re going to take this slow, so I don’t want you to push yourself too much right now.”

“He’s pretty patient. Had to be, to put up with me growing up,” Bofur responded lightly.

Miller nodded. “Good, you’re going to need that patience.” She put her clipboard down on the bed next to Bifur’s leg. “Now, I’m going to ask you to do simple movements. Do you understand?”

Bifur blinked a few times before nodding once like he did before. Though he did try to speak again.

“Okay. First I want you to follow my finger with your eyes…”

Bofur took the opportunity to take his phone from his pocket and one-handedly send a group text message to his father, brother, and aunt. ‘He’s awake. Doctor looking at him now.’ His phone quickly vibrated with a response from Brian and Peg, who were both at work. They would be here as quickly as traffic would allow. Bombur was probably in class, and would respond later.

Bifur was compliant with the doctor, until she asked to take both of his hands. His hand holding Bofur’s tightened as much as his decreased strength would let him. Bofur put his phone on his lap and laid his other hand over the older man’s, soothingly stroking the back of it. “Hey, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right here. I won’t leave. And your ma and my dad are going to be here soon.”

Bifur took a few breaths, then slowly let go of Bofur’s hand and placed it in the doctor’s waiting one.

Bofur quickly sent out texts to the others that Bifur was awake. Then he watched and verbally encouraged his cousin doing the rest of the little physical tests for Miller. He ignored the numerous buzzes of his phone, giving all his attention to Bifur.

Oin was the next person to come in, and his smile at seeing Bifur awake made Bofur’s widen. Bifur’s face lit up for a second and he made a sound of recognition. Oin responded, “Nice to see you too, lad.” He and Miller went to the corner to have a quiet conversation.

Bifur’s attention went back to Bofur, and he grabbed the younger man’s hand again. He started to lift his arm, but once again needed Bofur’s help to raise his hand up to his face. His fingers felt up Bofur’s jaw, then two started touching the hanging fang earring.

Bofur swallowed, pulling his hair back and turning his head so his cousin could feel his earring better. “Do you remember this? You made it for me, for my fifteenth birthday. I’d always wanted something to match your hairtie.” At Bifur’s nod, Bofur let out a breath of relief. They didn’t know if he had lost any memory, but it was comforting to know he hadn’t forgotten little things like this. “Oh, I’ve got that for you.” Bofur picked the hairtie up from the table and held it up for Bifur to see. “It’ll be awhile before you can use it again, but anyway…” He pressed it into his cousin’s free hand.

Miller left, and Oin stepped towards them. “She tells me you’re starting out with good signs. Which is very good, because you’ve left a lot of us worried about you.” He took the seat that Miller had left. “We’re going to hold off on asking you anything specific until you’re more ready for it.”

Bifur tried to talk, resulting in a series of discouraged breaths. He raised his hand to his mouth, then lowered it to his throat.

“I know that’s frustrating, and we’ll explain everything when you’re more ready,” Oin answered. “But I wouldn’t try to force it.”

Bifur dropped his hand and closed his eyes for a long moment. He opened them when Oin said, “It may take a little while, but not long, before you start to feel pain in your head. The medications you’re on, along with the fogginess in awakening, is holding it back.” Bifur’s hand went up to his head, the fingers feeling the edge of the bandages before Oin gently took it and set it back down on the bed. “I wouldn’t mess around with touching that yet. It’s healing nicely.”

Bifur looked to Bofur, who replied lightheartedly with, “You know he’ll tie your hands down to stop you from touching it. Best listen to him.”

Bofur and Oin were quiet, letting Bifur relax from the strain of waking up and moving around. Then Peg arrived, and Bofur quickly got up to let her have his chair. Bifur cried out and lifted his arms enough as an invitation for a hug. Peg hurried to him and embraced him gently, muttering in swift Gaelic the whole time.

Brian came in a couple minutes behind Peg, and stood next to Bofur as they watched the mother and son reunite. He pulled Bofur into a sideways hug and kissed his cheek. “How is he?” he quietly inquired.

“They said he’s doing as well as can be expected right after waking up. I think they’re going to do brain scan tests and stuff on him later on, but good first signs.”

“Thank goodness for that. Are you holding up fine?”

Bofur nodded. Then he furrowed his brow. “Dad… I think he remembers what happened. I mean, the first thing, the very first thing he did when he woke up was to check if I was okay. Physically, I mean. He was checking my face and neck.”

“He… he hasn’t freaked out over it?”

“He hasn’t had any strong reactions, not yet. Other than not wanting to let go of my hand. And he is already getting frustrated over not be able to talk… So maybe he doesn’t fully remember what happened yet.”

“Probably.”

“Oin said we’ll tell him everything when he’s more up to it.”

Brian nodded. “Looks like he’s falling back to sleep now.”

Bifur was indeed slowly blinking his unfocused eyes, and they got heavier with each blink. Oin consoled Peg, who looked anxious. “It’s okay, he’s not going to be able to stay up for long the first time. But each time he’ll get stronger.”

Peg kissed her son’s cheek right before he fell back into sleep. She kept her hold on both of his hands as she sank down into the chair. Brian went over to stand at her side.

Bofur received another message on his phone, and took it out to read all the ones he had missed. He skimmed over all the positive ones from everyone else, and read the last one, which was Bombur’s. ‘Wish I could’ve been there. I’ll definitely come this weekend.’

Bofur replied, ‘I know he’ll love to see you. Doctors say he’s doing good so far.’ Then he pocketed his phone and went over to the bed. Oin stood and stepped away to jot a few things down. Bofur took the empty seat and smiled at his sleeping cousin.

While he did wish Bombur had also been here for this, nothing could make him any happier than Bifur finally waking up.


	8. Chapter 8

“How was he yesterday, when he woke up?” Nori quietly asked as he pulled the chair to sit next to Bofur. He had come to keep Bofur company on his day off from work at Blue’s Auto Shop.

Bofur patted his sleeping cousin’s hand. “He was responsive, and Oin and Miller said he’s doing pretty good. He’ll get stronger every time he wakes up.”

“That’s a relief. More of us wanted to visit, but we’ve been advised to keep visitors to a minimum.”

“Yeah, Oin mentioned that to me, too. Don’t want to overcrowd or overexcite him.”

“Does he… does he remember?”

“We’ll find out more as we go, but I think he does. At least a little of it.”

Nori leaned in closer, resting his hand on Bofur’s thigh. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah… yeah, why wouldn’t I be? I mean, he’s woken up, he’s doing well.”

“You didn’t get much sleep last night, despite that great news.”

“I’ve been stressed and anxious for almost three weeks now. Even one good night’s sleep isn’t going to make me look much better. Besides, I’m… I’m worried about what all this means for him when he’s released.”

“Hey, take it a step at a time. We’re all going to have to do that.”

“Right, I know, it’s just…”

“You still think it’s your fault?”

Bofur closed his eyes and nodded. His eyes quickly opened as Nori’s hand went up to his face and turned his head to face him. Nori’s face was close, intense and serious. Bofur couldn’t help but try to laugh this off. “You going to kiss me?”

Nori snorted. “No. Though if that what it takes to get you from a lifetime of self-blame, I might try.”

“It would take more than that.”

“I don’t know… my past partners might disagree.”

“Must not have been that good, if they’re your past partners,” Bofur teased.

“Bastard,” Nori chuckled. Then his face turned serious again. “I mean it, though. None of this was your fault. I hope Bifur tells you that soon enough. Maybe you’ll listen to him.”

Bofur grunted. “Maybe.” His gaze held his friend’s, and Nori now had a strange expression on his face. Nori’s hand still on his face didn’t drop, having lingered far longer than it had needed to. He was about to ask Nori what was wrong, when a moan from the bed startled them both.

Like before, Bifur’s hand started moving before he opened his eyes. Bofur gently took it and smiled. It took a minute for Bifur’s eyes to focus and turn his head to the two younger men.

“Hey, Bif,” Bofur greeted, stroking the back of his cousin’s hand with his thumb.

Bifur raised his other hand, his fingers pointed at Nori, and tried to speak. Every time he had tried to talk, it sent a little stab in Bofur’s heart. But he swallowed and kept his little smile. “You remember Nori?”

Bifur nodded slowly, and reached out again. Nori understood what he wanted and took his hand. “It’s great to see you awake.”

“Think you can stay awake longer for your ma?” Bofur asked. “She stayed with you all night.”

Bifur’s leg shifted under the blankets as he tried to sit up. Bofur patted his arm. “We have to take it slow, so maybe wait for a doctor to come in to show off, okay?” He sent off a quick text to Peg. When he looked back up, Bifur was staring straight ahead, green eyes clouded.

“Should we… do anything?” Nori quietly asked.

Bofur shook his head. “They said he would space out like this.” He didn’t like it, of course, but he wasn’t going to try to force Bifur out of it.

Bifur was completely still for about a minute, then he started shaking. He took his hands from Bofur and Nori, and they clenched as tightly as they could. His face twisted in pain, and he suddenly ripped the bandage from his head with a cry. The flailing motion nearly tore the IV needle from his arm.

Bofur averted his eyes from the large stitched wound and grabbed Bifur’s wrists, barely catching them before they could claw at the stitched gash. Nori pressed the nurse call button on the side of the bedframe and hurried to Bifur’s other side to help hold him down if needed.

Bifur started kicking and trying to twist around. Bofur bent over closer, and winced as the older man’s hand tightly closed around his long loose hair and pulled him down further. “Bifur, it’s al-“ Bofur froze at the expression on his cousin’s face. Pain and fear… exactly like that night. He was remembering it, reliving it.

Bofur squeezed his eyes shut for a few seconds to collect himself enough to speak. He opened his eyes again, and all he saw was red and blood. He rapidly blinked to clear that away. He had to be strong here, in control. He couldn’t sink into the memory like Bifur was now.

“You’re safe, Bifur… We’re safe,” Bofur consoled in a quiet and shaky voice. He cleared his throat. “We’re not there anymore. Nobody’s hurting you. Please… listen to me.” Bifur’s eyes flickered around, unable to focus on the younger man’s face. His hand tightened on Bofur’s hair as long pained whimpers came from him. “Don’t do this,” Bofur said, failing to keep the emotion from his voice. “We’re not there.”

Bofur barely noticed the nurse who rushed in and that Nori stepped aside to give her space. He swallowed, and didn’t react to Bifur yanking on his hair again as a spasm went through his body. “Hush, hush… Bifur, I’m here. We’re safe. You… you’re-“

Bifur let out a more verbal but wordless cry as his gaze met Bofur’s. Even without being able to say Bofur’s name like he had when it had happened, it was the same mix of fear and pain and panic from that night. Bifur’s teeth clenched as he tried again.

“I’m here,” Bofur whispered as he bent over more until his nose brushed against his cousin’s. “I love you, and… and I’m here for you. I’m not- not going anywhere. You… you saved me, protected me. I’m here.” Bifur’s body began to settle down. “That’s right,” Bofur continued, encouraged. “I love you. Come back from there.”

Bifur’s hand in Bofur’s hair let go for a second to grab higher up, though his grip wasn’t as tight. His breathing became more even, though his face still showed pain.

Bofur let go of Bifur’s other wrist and gently stroked through the black hair. He barely stopped himself from pressing their foreheads together. “Don’t get lost there,” he whispered, his tone less urgent now. “I love you… I’m here…”

“I’ve given him a light sedative,” the nurse informed. “I’ll be back with the doctor.”

Bifur weakly grasped Bofur’s arm, and he blinked slowly. His brow still furrowed as he let out little whimpers of pain, but at least he wasn’t thrashing around anymore.

Bofur gave an encouraging smile as he slightly pulled away. His eyes flickered up to the wound, cringing at the sight of it. Then he noticed the white coloring directly above it. Bifur’s hair was starting to grow in white, in a streak down his head, starting from where the wound touched his hairline. He let out a sad sigh and muttered, “If anything would make you go grey at thirty…”

Bifur looked up at him in confusion. Then his hand dropped from the younger man’s hair to the bed. He glanced around, eyes dazed. Bofur straightened, but didn’t move away and let go of his cousin’s hand, and let Bifur keep holding onto his arm.

“We think he remembered what happened, and he… freaked out,” Nori informed Miller as the doctor walked in.

“With an event as traumatic as you described, this doesn’t surprise me,” Miller leaned over to inspect the headwound. “Good, he didn’t hurt himself.”

“He tried to,” Bofur said quietly. “He’s in pain, and he was remembering…” He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to be quiet and strong as Miller checked Bifur over. Even though every muscle was telling him to leave Bifur’s bedside and find somewhere to vent his emotions, he refused to abandon the man who had saved his life. Nori came over and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

When Peg arrived, Bofur slowly let go of Bifur’s hand, with a promise of, “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving you. I’ll be… I’ll be back soon.” Peg quickly took his place, and Bofur left the room after quietly filling her in on what happened.

Nori followed Bofur to the courtyard. “That was rough,” he commented.

“You could say that again.” Bofur slumped down on a bench and but his hands over his face. He inhaled deeply, but failed to muffle the little sob. “I was right there with him, back in that bar.” He lowered his hands to look at his friend. “He was so afraid and hurting… He looked exactly like he did there. Minus the blood, of course, but I could still see it. I could see the blood… hear him say my name for the last time…”

Nori quickly sat and put his arms around Bofur.

“But I had to be strong, you know?” Bofur sniffed. “We couldn’t both be lost there.”

“It’s okay,” Nori soothed. “You can let it all out now.”

So Bofur did, dampening Nori’s shirt with his tears. Nori didn’t say anything, just held him and rocked side-to-side. Eventually, his tears dried and his light sobs ceased. But they sat there a few minutes longer before going back inside.

They reached Bifur’s room to find it empty, including the bed. Bofur hurried to the nurse at the desk and asked where his cousin was. She told them he had been taken for a brain scan, and he should be back soon.

Bofur and Nori waited in the recovery room until Bifur was brought back. Peg was bent over and trying to comfort her son in Gaelic, and Oin followed the group with his head slightly shaking. Bofur was quietly relieved to see Bifur’s head had been rebandaged. Once the bed was put back in place, Bofur realized Bifur’s hands were strapped to the metal frames, and those hands were trembling. His entire body looked tense.

“What did you do?” Bofur demanded of Miller.

Miller undid the straps and answered, “He didn’t take well to the scanning equipment, but we needed to do it to get as good a starting reading as we can. We couldn’t risk sedating him more.”

Bofur took one of Bifur’s freed hands and petted the back of it. “It’s alright now, you’re safe.”

“I’ll take it from here, thank you,” Oin said to Miller. He turned to Peg, “We’ll get the results from the scan soon enough. But first look tells me he’s still as well as can be expected. We’ll know more about exactly how he’s been affected through this.” He approached Bifur and placed a hand on his leg. “I’m sorry it scared you, and that they restrained you like that, but we can’t have you hurting yourself. You understand?”

Bifur’s response was to whimper. Oin started to run his hand up and down Bifur’s thigh, pressing down. “What I want you to do now is relax. You don’t have to sleep, but you do need to relax. Calm your body… Nori, would you do this with his other leg?”

Nori moved to obey, and he tried to match his pace and pressure to Oin’s. Bofur could see it was starting to work, Bifur’s legs and torso under the blanket visibly calming. “That’s good,” Oin commented. “Very good.”

Peg continued her soothing in Gaelic, holding Bifur’s other hand and stroking through his hair.

When Bifur was as relaxed as he had been upon awakening, Oin withdrew his hand, and Nori followed suit. “This is a good sign that your leg muscles are working. Perhaps tomorrow we’ll work on getting them moving. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go see how the scans came out.”

Bifur looked to Bofur and squeezed on his hand. Then he took his hands from the younger man’s and his mother’s to press his palms together and raise them to the side of his head.

“You want to sleep now?” Bofur asked.

Bifur shook his head slightly. He grunted and pointed a finger at Bofur.

“Me? But I don’t want to go home yet. I want to stay with you.”

“He’s right, though. You should get some sleep,” Peg said.

“I’ll sleep in a chair then.” Bofur turned to go to one. He was stopped by a hand grabbing the back of his shirt. He turned, and Bifur let go. “Alright, not a chair then.”

Bifur patted the edge of the bed, and scooted sideways towards Peg. Bofur raised his brow at the gesture. He glanced to his aunt, who only shrugged and nodded.

“You sure about this, Bifur? I mean, I don’t want to accidently hurt you or anything.”

Bifur took Bofur’s hand and pulled down. He made a little inviting sound and nodded.

“Right, I suppose you’re the boss.” Bofur kicked off his shoes and climbed up onto the bed. He turned onto his side, and Bifur’s arm came around his back.

Unconsciously, Bofur snuggled closer, settled his head on Bifur’s chest, and put his arm over his middle. He hadn’t been in this position in years, but it instinctively felt right. Bifur was thinner and weaker, and that felt wrong. But he would regain that strength the injury and coma had taken, Bofur had to believe.

Bofur closed his eyes and couldn’t help the small smile at the feel of the mouth pressing against the top of his head. It wasn’t quite a kiss, but it was close enough. He fell asleep to the rise and fall of Bifur’s chest, and the heartbeat under his ear.


	9. Chapter 9

_“Bif! Bifur!” the child’s voice called through the door, accompanied by a short knock. “I wanna come in.”_

_“Of course you do,” Bifur sighed to himself as he set aside his homework. He loved his little cousins, but sometimes they wanted attention when he really should be doing schoolwork. Bofur especially, since Bombur wasn’t even six months old yet._

_The three-year-old knocked again. “Please?”_

_Bifur cleared off a section of his bed for Bofur to sit before opening the door. Bofur rushed in and immediately made a beeline for the bed and climbed up onto it. Bifur shook his head in amusement and closed the door halfway. “You can’t stay too long. I’ve got stuff I need to finish for tomorrow.” Then he noticed the somewhat upset expression on Bofur’s face. “What’s the matter?”_

_“Ma’s sleeping and Da’s holding Bom,” Bofur pouted, folding his arms in front of him._

_“Ah, feeling a little neglected, huh?”_

_“What?”_

_“A little lonely?” Bifur sat next to his cousin and put an arm around his shoulders to pull him in close._

_Bofur nodded. “Ma and Da don’t spend much time with me anymore.”_

_“They do try.” Bifur let out a long breath. “It’s just that Bombur needs them to always look after him, since he can’t even walk or talk yet.”_

_“Not fair.”_

_Bifur squeezed Bofur’s arm. “You needed just as much attention when you were that little. I remember you cried more than he does.”_

_“Did not.”_

_“Did too,” Bifur chuckled. “But you’re a bigger boy now, so you can look after yourself more.”_

_“I want Da to play with me right now.”_

_“Maybe he will when Bombur falls asleep.”_

_Bofur bit his lip. “Maybe… but can I stay with you until he does?” He looked up to Bifur’s face, almost pleading._

_How could Bifur say no? “Sure.”_

_Bofur was content to sit against Bifur for a few minutes, before he noticed something on the dresser and got up to fetch it._

_“Oh no you don’t.” Bifur shot up and took his new woodcarving tools from Bofur’s hands. “Your ma would kill me if I let you accidentally cut yourself.”_

_“But you said I’m a big boy.”_

_“Not a big enough boy for that.” Bifur picked him up and settled him on his lap on the bed._

_Bofur suddenly looked thoughtful. “Bom is my little brother… But why aren’t you my big brother?”_

_Bifur choked at the question. “What?”_

_“Why aren’t you my brother, too?”_

_Well this was certainly not a topic Bifur expected from his cousin. “Um… we have different moms and dads. That means we’re not brothers.”_

_“But we look more the same than me and Bom do.” Bofur pulled a lock of his hair and one of Bifur’s side-by-side, comparing the dark brown and the black. “Bom has orange.”_

_Bifur didn’t mention their matching green eyes, something Bombur did not share with them, not wanting to encourage this line of thinking. He cleared his throat. “I think you’re going to have to ask your parents about all this.”_

_“You’d be a cool big brother.”_

_Bifur smiled. He knew he practically filled that role, and had since Bofur was born. He also hoped Bombur would think of him that way. “Nice to know you think so.” He set Bofur down on his feet and took his hand. “Come on, let’s see if your da has gotten Bombur to sleep so he can play with you.”_

********

Bofur, Bombur, and Brian entered Bifur’s hospital room, and stopped in their tracks. With assistance from Peg and Oin, Bifur was standing and taking steps around the bed. “Nice to see you up,” Bofur remarked.

Bifur turned to them, with a smile that expressed strain at the physical effort, but with genuine elation at seeing them. He broke free of the hands on his forearms and back, and stumbled over to the three. He went to Bombur first, trying to say something that was probably supposed to be his name, and practically fell against him.

Bombur caught Bifur around the middle before he could fall to the floor, and hugged him close. Bifur steadied his legs and threw his arms around Bombur’s back and buried his face in his neck. Bombur smiled and greeted, “This is quite a change from last I saw you.”

Oin shook his head in amusement. “If I had known you would try to run off…”

Bifur straightened and kissed Bombur’s cheek. He tried to say something, and got frustrated at the sadly expected sounds that came out instead of words. He took Bombur’s hands and pulled him to the bed. He sat down and picked up a notepad and pen. He tightly closed his eyes as he touched the pen tip to the paper, as though needing to really concentrate. His hand shook a little.

“Bifur?” the two brothers asked in concern.

“It’s alright,” Oin assured. “It just takes him a moment.”

Surely enough, Bifur opened his eyes and scrawled something, then gave the notepad to Bombur. _‘You alright?’_ it read.

Bombur bit his lip as a wave of emotion passed through him. He choked up, but managed to say, “Me? You’re the one who… Yes, I-I’m alright.”

“Walking and writing. Two new things since I was here yesterday,” Bofur remarked, trying to keep the mood light.

“Depending on how he does the next couple of days, Oin says they might release him this weekend,” Peg quietly said.

“He’s doing remarkably well,” said Oin. “Though let’s take it one step at a time.”

Bombur dropped the notepad on the bed as he was pulled into a one-armed hug by Bifur, who was still sitting on the bed edge. His brother was pulled in as well, and they wrapped their arms around their cousin. Bifur turned his head to the side, and pressed his face between their chests.

“That’s right…” Bofur soothed, as he felt Bifur’s body shake as they held him. “We’re both here…”

********

The next day, the family was gathered in Bifur’s room again. Bombur handed him a small Tupperware with pasta he had made for him, and Bifur eagerly started eating, having already expressed his dislike of the standard hospital food.

Bifur was about halfway done with the food when Oin and Dr Miller came in. He didn’t pay them any mind, attention solely on the food. It took gentle physical prodding from his mother to get him to look up at the doctors. He smiled at them before refocusing on his meal.

“Good to know you’ve got an appetite,” Oin remarked.

Bifur finished and handed the plastic fork and empty container to Bombur. Then he took his notepad, taking a moment to start writing. _‘Thanks. Much better. More tomorrow?’_

“I told you not to make him anything,” Brian joked. “Now he’s spoiled.”

Peg put an arm around Bifur’s shoulder and slightly pulled him close in affection.

“Bifur,” Miller addressed. She waited until he looked at her to continue. “We’re going to tell you and your family what you can expect when you go home soon.”

Bifur leaned into his mother’s hold and nodded. He closed his eyes for a few seconds as she lightly massaged the back of his neck. Then he straightened against the head of the bed and reached out for Bofur’s hand. Bofur obliged as he settled in the chair at his side.

With a nod of approval from Peg, the two doctors went through everything they knew they could expect over the coming weeks and months. They had to stop a couple times as Bifur spaced out or took some time to ask a couple of questions.

Bofur took it all in, and couldn’t help but be reminded that this was all happening because of him. Because he hadn’t been paying attention. He didn’t say anything until Oin said that Bifur should not be left alone at home for at least the first few weeks. Bofur raised his hand and replied, “I’ll stay home with him.” He had thought about this the night before, and discussed it with his brother., though he had put off telling anyone else until now.

“We wouldn’t ask you to,” Peg responded.

“It makes perfect sense. I already live at home, and you two have jobs.” Bofur glanced down to Bifur when the older man squeezed his hand with a slight headshake. “Besides,” Bofur added, keeping the eye contact, “It’s the least I can do.”

“It wouldn’t just be staying at home with him,” Miller said. “He’ll need to be brought in for regular check-ups and progress appointments.”

“I’ll do it. Whatever you need me to do, I’ll do it.” Bofur looked up and behind him when his father placed a hand on his shoulder.

“We’ll talk about this more after the doctors are done,” Brian said, though his tone and expression didn’t protest the idea.

Bifur didn’t look happy with the idea of his younger cousin looking after him, but Bofur wasn’t going to let him be stubborn about it. Bombur smiled at his brother, though he had expressed his own concerns about him last night. Miller cleared her throat, and continued on with the talk.

Miller bent over to pick up something from the floor against the bed. Oin approached Bifur and said, “We’re going to let you see what’s under the bandage now. Do you want to?”

Bifur went still at the question. After a long moment, he slowly nodded.

“Okay, you have to promise not to try to touch it.” Oin leaned over to start unwrapping the bandage. Bifur let out a cry and pushed Oin’s hands away. An unconscious action, one that he did every time a doctor’s hands went near his head. Oin and Peg, used to this, gently shushed him until he calmed enough.

“You know me… you know I won’t hurt you…” Oin said softly as he undid the bandage. Then he stepped away, and Miller moved in close, holding up a medium-sized square mirror.

Bifur completely froze at his reflection for a long minute. This was the first time he had seen himself since awakening from the coma. His hand came up to feel at the stitched laceration that went down his forehead, stopping just before his eyebrow. Peg stopped him before he could touch it, and gently pushed it back down. It came up again, but this time to the side of his head, feeling the short hair there. He noticed the white where the wound touched his hairline, and tilted his head down to see the streak growing in. Then his hand went down to feel the stubble growing on his face. While the nursing team had kept him shaved during the coma, they had left it alone after he awakened.

While he knew of the pain in his head that originated from the split skin and bone, the lightness of his head, and the roughness on his chin, seeing it… seeing how different he looked, how the wound, still angry and red, stuck out on his unusually thin and somewhat pale face… He swallowed and let out a long breath. His body started to shake.

Miller lowered the mirror, and Oin stepped up to place a comforting hand on Bifur’s thigh. “I know it’s a bit of a shock, but you are really doing very well. It’s healing as well as we can expect.” He leaned over to reapply the bandage.

Bifur squeezed his eyes shut as the memory of what happened surfaced, though mercifully he didn’t get fully into it, his family recognizing it and comforting him enough to hold it at bay and bring him back.

After everything was said and done, Oin and Miller left them so they could speak privately as a family.

Bifur wrote, _‘Don’t want you spend time looking after me. Not your life.’_

“Hey, it won’t be for forever,” Bofur pointed out.

“A few months at most,” Bombur added. “And he’s right. Dad and Aunt Peg have good jobs, and those shouldn’t be risked. I wish I could stay and help, too. Though I’ll definitely be home over the summer.”

Bifur grunted and the next sound he made was a protest. Then he looked down at his hand, still holding Bofur’s. It took him another minute to write, _‘Not your place. Not your burden.’_

All four of the family member’s eyes widened. Peg said first, “Don’t be so stubborn about this, love. We’re a family, and we take care of each other.”

“It is our place,” Bombur spoke up. “You’ve looked after us all our lives. It’s only right to return the favor.”

“Bifur, I think you’re being outvoted here,” Brian said.

Bifur glanced around at all of them, before slumping back against the pillows.

“My company isn’t that bad, is it?” Bofur lightly asked.

Bifur shook his head, and tried to talk. With a sigh, he picked up his notepad and wrote, _‘Lots info. Head hurts more. Tired.’_

“We’ll bring you home soon,” Peg said, kissing the top of her son’s head. “So have sweet dreams of that, would you?”

Bifur dutifully nodded, and soon drifted into a peaceful sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Bifur was discharged from the hospital the next afternoon. He was exhausted by the time he got changed into the tshirt and sweatpants Brian brought for him, having had to go through a lot of physical testing and scanning to make sure he was fit to be released.

He managed to stay awake through the car ride, though the temptation to doze off between his cousins was there. He laid his head on Bombur’s shoulder, lightly held Bofur’s hand, and absentmindedly stared ahead through the windshield, not truly seeing what was outside it. He had to be lightly shaken to make him realize when they had pulled up in the driveway of the family house, and that he was home.

Bofur was unusually quiet as he followed his family inside. He didn’t say anything as Bifur ate a quick meal before going to his bedroom, which they had refurnished and decorated a few days ago. Peg went with him, and when Bofur checked in on them a little while later, found his cousin and aunt asleep together on the bed. Bifur was curled up and face only partly visible in her arms.

Bofur checked his phone when it buzzed with a message. It was Nori, asking if everything had gone okay. He saw that he had missed messages from practically everyone else in their sort of extended family, and smiled. Most asked when they could visit. He replied to those messages telling them to ask his dad about that. Then he replied to Nori to meet him in the park, and to bring Fili and Kili. It was late enough where they should all be home. He quickly got a reply saying they would be there.

“Dad, I’m going out, just to the park to hang out with the other lads,” Bofur said as he put on his shoes. “Bom, come with me?”

Bombur nodded, and grabbed a bag of gummy bears on the way out.

The two of them chose a spot far enough away from the playset and any children and families running around. Bofur plopped down on the grass and laid on his back. Bombur sat next to him, and gave him a handful of candy. Bofur absentmindedly chewed at it, staring up at the sky.

“Do you think he’ll change?” Bofur suddenly asked.

“You’ve been with him more than I have,” Bombur replied. “Do you think he will?”

“I asked first.”

“I… guess losing his ability to speak is a pretty big change. The way he spaces out, too. But inside… I think he’ll still be our Bifur.”

“Ma changed before she-“

“It’s not the same,” Bombur assured. “It would be the opposite, really. And he’ll get better with time, right?”

“That’s what Oin says, yeah. I hope he’s right. I don’t think I could take anything else.”

Bombur waved across the way to their three approaching friends. Bofur raised his head and gave a little smile in greeting when they got close, then went back to looking up at the sky. Bombur passed the bag of candy around, and they all ended up lying on their backs, heads in the middle of a circle. It was a familiar and comforting position, which helped Bofur feel better.

“How’s he doing?” Fili asked after a quiet moment.

“He was sleeping when we left,” Bombur answered. “But Oin said he’s doing very well.”

“We wanted to visit at the hospital, but Mama said we shouldn’t. Something about overcrowding him,” Kili said.

“I’m sure he’d love to have visitors when he’s feeling more up to it,” Bombur replied.

“Thorin also wants to, but I think Peg scared him away,” Fili remarked.

Bofur let out a humorless chuckle. “I’m sure she’ll let him in the door eventually. Dad might have to sneak him in at first,” he tried to joke.

Kili let out a little laugh. “That’ll be something to see, Uncle sneaking around.”

They were all quiet for a moment, simply munching on the candy and taking comfort in each other’s presence. Then Bofur said, “I don’t know what would be worse. If Bifur… if he keeps trying to talk, or if he stops trying. I mean, being quiet isn’t in Bifur’s nature, but the sounds he makes when he tries to talk… it’s not him. I don’t know…”

“What does he sound like?” Fili carefully asked.

“Can’t form any words, just grunts and weird little sounds,” Bombur answered. “He sounds more… growly, too.”

“You said he can write, though?” Nori replied.

“Yeah, that’s something. He needs a little time to think as he does it, but it’s something,” replied Bombur.

Bofur turned his head when he felt Nori’s hand lay on his forearm. He let out a breath through his nose as Nori gave him a little optimistic smile. A matching smile formed on his face in response.

*********

Bofur and Bombur returned home a couple hours later. Bifur and Peg were awake, with Peg cooking dinner. Bifur sat at the dining table, staring at a small vase of well-wishes flowers from Dis. His hands were tightly pressed between his thighs, and his face kept contorting in annoyance and slight pain.

Bifur didn’t look up until Bofur placed a hand on his head, lightly running through the damp black hair. A brief smile flickered over his features, but was quickly replaced by irritation.

Bombur saw the notepad on the table, with the most recent word being _‘itches.’_ Peg confirmed it by explaining, “He’s trying not to scratch at the stitches.”

Bombur assured his cousin, “Remember if you’re good about it, they’ll get taken out soon.”

Bifur gave the younger man a little glare, though it wasn’t expressing annoyance at him, but the situation. Bofur moved his hand until his fingertips touched the top edge of the bandage, which was being kept on to help keep Bifur from touching the healing wound, and lightly massaged. He smiled as Bifur let out a sigh and closed his eyes, relaxing into the touch.

“Well that seems to help,” Bofur remarked.

Bifur grunted. His arm went around the chair to grab the bottom of Bofur’s shirt, telling him not to go away anytime soon.

Dinner, as expected, was quieter than it usually was, though everyone did try to make things feel as normal as they could. But it just wasn’t the same without Bifur talking to them. He would keep trying to speak, and get frustrated and jot it down on his notepad, an action that only seemed to frustrate him more now that he was home.

Once he was finished eating, Bifur got up and started washing the dishes. The four at the table looked at his back for a short moment, then glanced to each other to quietly assure that they would all be okay.

********

Bombur had to leave the next morning, though it was apparent he would’ve preferred to stay a few days longer.

“You take care of yourself,” Bombur said as he said goodbye to Bifur and Bofur on the porch. Brian and Peg had already left for work. “Both of you.”

“Come on, you know I’ll take care of myself,” Bofur replied.

Bifur didn’t protest, and wrote, _‘You do well at school.’_

Bombur had to blink back tears, and pulled his cousin into a hug. “I will. And I’ll be back in summer, so you do well at recovering.”

Bofur wrapped his arms around both of them. “We’ll do our best with that.”

Bifur kissed his younger cousin on the cheek before letting go. He gestured to Bombur’s car with his head and nodded with a little grunt. _‘I love you,’_ he wrote.

“Love you, too, Bif. You too, Bofur. I mean what I said.” Bombur threw himself into one more quick hug before picking up his duffel bag and going to his car.

Bofur and Bifur watched him drive away. Once he was gone, Bifur took his cousin’s hand and pulled him to the porch bench. He heavily sat down and let go of Bofur’s hand, and huddled in on himself. Bofur sat next to him and put an arm over his shoulders to pull him close.

They simply sat there for a good while, both absentmindedly looking out at the neighborhood.


	11. Chapter 11

Bofur knocked on his cousin’s slightly ajar bedroom door, intending to ask what he wanted for breakfast. “You awake yet?” He knew Peg had gone in to tell him goodbye before she had left for work, so he was at least expecting a grunt. He let out a concerned call of Bifur’s name at the silence, and immediately went in at the long pained moan.

Bofur remembered not to turn on the light as he went inside, remembering that might make whatever pain Bifur was in worse. The light coming in from the hallway was enough for him to see Bifur curled up tightly, the thin blanket tangled around his legs. Bofur couldn’t see his face, but he knew from the muffled whimpering that it was contorted in pain. He hurried to climb into the bed in front of him, laying a hand on Bifur’s forearm.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Your ma didn’t leave that long ago. What happened?” Bofur asked, more to himself than expecting an answer. “Did she give you the pain meds?”

This question got a tiny nod, barely noticeable from the shaking of his body, from Bifur.

“Right then, we’ll have to just ride this out,” Bofur encouraged. He wrapped his arms around his cousin’s trembling form and held him close. He kissed the top of his head and said into the black hair, “It’ll be okay… I’m here…”

Bifur’s arms came from around his head to grab Bofur’s shirt and pull himself in closer, until his face was pressed into the younger man’s chest.

“I know…” Bofur soothed at the muffled sob and feel of tears dampening his shirt. “I’m here…”

It took a long while, but Bifur eventually settled, his body calming and pain subsiding. But neither of the men wanted to let go, and simply held on to each other for a long time after.

********

Bofur’s hands instantly went to cover his ears, instinctively trying to block the sound of the discordant piano. He hurried to where they had put Bifur’s piano, in the spot it had occupied before he had moved out, to find his cousin standing over it, hands pressing down hard on the keys.

“What are you doing?” Bofur harshly shouted as he grabbed the other man from behind and pulled him away.

Bifur spun around in the hold, nearly smacking their foreheads together, and stared into Bofur’s eyes. It wasn’t his usual faraway stare either, having a sense of fear underlying. His body was trembling and his breathing became quick and heavy.

“Hey, hey, you’re safe,” Bofur consoled, mentally berating himself for his severe tone from before. “I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. You just… scared me.”

Bifur made a low whining sound, trying to speak as his hands moved to try to communicate, since his notepad was nowhere nearby. He shook his head and pressed his finger into Bofur’s chest. He shook his head again, and moved his hand to tap the side of his head, then brought both hands in front of himself and clenched them tightly. He glanced backward to the piano, then closed his eyes and tried to huddle in on himself.

“No, no, don’t do that. It’s okay,” Bofur softly said, tightening his arms around Bifur. “It… It hurts to remember, I know.” He let out a shuddering breath and muttered, “I haven’t even wanted to play since it happened. Too soon, you know?”

Bifur raised his still-clenched hand to rub at the side of his face, before making a little sound, an apologetic expression letting Bofur know what he meant.

“No, you don’t need to be sorry.” Bofur closed his eyes for a moment. “Just a little fright. No harm done.”

Bifur unfurled his hand and touched his palm to the younger man’s cheek, and shook his head.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled. It’s just… fuck, I don’t know.”

Bifur moved his hand up to tap at Bofur’s temple. Then he tapped at his own with a sad smile.

Bofur sighed. “You’re right, we both have the bad memories. Which is why… why we’re working through this together, right?”

Bifur nodded, and his body shuddered in discomfort. He took Bofur’s hand to lead him outside to sit on the porch. The fresh air was good for helping him calm down.

********

Bofur hated it whenever Bifur would slip into a distant staring mood. There was the idea from Oin and the other doctors that the frequency and lengths of the spells would lessen as time went on, but it still hurt so much to know when his cousin wasn’t mentally present. They simply had to let it happen, interfering when it looked like Bifur might hurt himself if it was a painful reliving of the attack.

One evening, soon after the stitches had been taken out, Brian approached Bifur when he was in one of the staring moods. But instead of not even noticing people moving around him like usual, when Brian got close enough, Bifur shot up to his feet and shoved him back with enough force to knock him to the dining room floor.

Bofur barely registered the strange expression on Bifur’s face as he hurried over and threw his arms around his cousin’s neck from behind. His hold wasn’t tight enough to hurt, but was enough to keep Bifur from going anywhere. Bofur was expecting Bifur to put up a struggle against him, but he didn’t. Instead, he stared ahead at Brian, who was still on the floor and looking up at him.

“Come on, sit down,” Bofur prompted. “No one’s going to hurt you.” He started to push down on Bifur, who stiffly complied and sat back down in the chair. “It was just my dad, your uncle. You’re safe.”

Brian let out a breath and stood, rubbing his side. He smiled and nodded to let Bofur know he was fine. “I’m sorry if I startled you, Bifur.”

Bifur slowly raised his hand to Bofur’s arms around his chest, and turned his head to him, their noses nearly touching. Bofur let out a little relieved sigh when he noticed the other man’s eyes were clear and focused, though they did express confusion. Then Bifur glanced to Brian and tilted his head.

Brian smiled and made to walk past, but Bifur’s hand shot out and grabbed his wrist. With a little grunt, Bifur yanked him close and wrapped his other arm around his waist in a hug. Without a free hand to write, he tried to speak, but the look on his face was enough to communicate his apology.

“I know you didn’t mean it. I’m not hurt,” Brian replied.

After a moment, Bifur let go and wrote on his notepad, _‘Have I done this before?’_

“No, no you haven’t,” Bofur assured.

Brian kneeled in front of Bifur. “Can you tell us anything about what was going on in your head?”

_‘Makes no sense. Dark. Lost. Scared. Hurt. Very sorry.’_

“It’s okay,” Bofur comforted. He let out a long breath and buried his face in Bifur’s neck. He smiled a little at his father’s hand on his shoulder.

********

Bofur paused his video game to get up and grab a snack. The moment he returned, Bifur, who had been sitting with him and somewhat watching him play, laid down with his head face-up on Bofur’s thigh.

“Bif?” This wasn’t unusual behavior, since his cousin had become more physically attached since the incident, which was no problem to deal with because he had always been affectionate. But this time it was the way Bifur looked up at him that concerned Bofur. It was his remembering stare.

Bifur grabbed Bofur’s hand and brought it down onto his forehead, on the side with the scar. Bofur flinched, but forced himself not to pull away at the feel of the scar against his palm. Oin had told them to not have the bandage over it anymore, but right now Bofur wished he was still wearing it. Seeing the result of the wound was bad enough, but feeling it sent shivers down his spine.

“Bifur, let go of my hand?”

Bifur’s response was to press down harder, and completely cover his left eye. Bofur had to close his eyes to stop himself from imagining the blood. He didn’t want to wrench his hand away, but he didn’t know how long he could keep it there. At least Bifur wasn’t shaking or making pained noises, but it was still enough to make Bofur remember it all.

Thankfully, Peg walked in the door from work and broke the spell. Bifur jolted into awareness, and looked confused at the position they were in.

Bofur gingerly got up and put on a smile, not wanting to let Bifur know it had bothered him. “I’m going for a walk. Be back in a bit,” he told his cousin and aunt.

As soon as he was out of the house, Bofur took out his phone and called his brother. He started walking, not paying attention or caring where he was going. Bombur answered after a few rings, and Bofur let out a breath of relief that he wasn’t busy.

“Are you okay?” was Bombur’s greeting.

“I… I don’t know,” Bofur admitted. “I mean… I guess he’s getting better.”

“But?” Bombur prompted.

“It’s just… really hard, both of us remembering it. I’m supposed to be here to help him, but then sometimes I feel lost like he is, and…”

“You’ve been with him all day for… two weeks since he got home. That would be hard on anyone, but especially on you since-“

“Since I was there when it happened, holding him as he…” Bofur shook his head. He couldn’t go there now.

“You need a break. Spend the next weekend at Nori’s place. Something like that.”

“I can’t… I mean, I don’t want to abandon him.”

“You wouldn’t be. He’ll understand, and he’ll have Dad and Aunt Peg looking after him.”

“But what if he needs me?”

“It’s just a suggestion. But I don’t think he would want you to hurt yourself looking after him. Don’t be afraid to step away for a day or two if you need it, is all I’m saying.”

“I suppose…”

“You’re not alone. Don’t forget that, alright? Both of you.”

“Well, I did call you,” Bofur said lightly.

Bombur let out a little chuckle. “You know what I mean. Speaking of, has Aunt Peg let Thorin in the house yet?”

“We haven’t had any visitors yet. Oin said to keep it kind of quiet and calm for the first couple weeks. I still think she’s angry at Thorin, though.”

“She’ll come around eventually.”

“Maybe.” Bofur needed to get his mind off of Bifur for a bit. He asked, “So, how have classes and campus life been going?”

At the end of their conversation, Bofur found he had walked around the neighborhood and was almost back home. He smiled, feeling a little better. “Thanks, Bom.”

“Anytime. Just remember what I said earlier, okay?”

“Yeah, I will. Talk to you later.” Bofur hung up and waved to Dori and Ori coming home before he went back inside.


	12. Chapter 12

Dis put down her last tray and headed for the computer to clock out. Peg was already there, making sure her purse was in order.

“Hey, love,” Dis said, swiping her timecard and going to get her own bag. “Want a lift?”

Peg glanced at her. “If you’ve got the time,” she said.

“Course I’ve got time,” Dis said. “We live across the street from each other and the boys can look after themselves.” She hesitated. “And I’d like to help,” she finished.

“Help?” Peg repeated as they headed outside. “Don’t know what sort of help you think we need.”

Dis gave her a severe look. “Brian still doing the cooking?”

“Mostly,” Peg mumbled. “But he’s competent at it.”

“Vacuumed recently?”

“As if you do it more than once a week…”

“Dusting?”

“Haven’t noticed…”

“Laundry?”

Peg rolled her eyes. “You’re not going to let up, are you?”

Dis sighed. “Look… I know you’re proud and Irish and self-sufficient, strong independent woman and everything, but I can tell you’re struggling. And you’ve always been so good to my family… I want to help, however I can.”

Peg smiled a bit. “Aye, you’re right, lass,” she admitted. “And thank you…I suppose the house could use a bit of work… I just don’t want to put any strain on you right after work.”

“Trust me, Peg,” Dis said as she started the car. “After seven hours of carrying trays and slapping all those idiots who think my ass is there for them to grab, washing your dishes and laundry will be a relief.”

Peg giggled. “To be fair, it is a very nice ass,” she teased.

Dis swatted her. “Don’t start.”

 

“Hello, boys!” Peg called.

“Hello, Aunt Peg!” Bofur called back. He and Bifur were sitting in the living room with the TV on, though it was muted.

“Dis is insisting on cleaning something,” Peg informed them as she and Dis entered the living room.

“Being busy keeps me from despair in times of adversity,” Dis explained. “Gather the laundry, please.”

Bofur got up and headed upstairs. Dis smiled at Bifur, who was staring at her, blinking. “Hello, Bifur,” she said. “How are you feeling?”

He shrugged jerkily, but that seemed good enough for Dis as she got to work putting the house to rights while Peg went to the kitchen to find dinner for them.

Dis chattered away as she worked, telling Bifur about everything the boys had been up to in the last few weeks, about her job at the diner, stories about her and Vili from when they were young. He didn’t make much response, but she didn’t seem to notice or care.

“You don’t have to make the place spotless,” Peg told her after an hour. “Come and eat, you haven’t had anything in hours.”

Dis sighed and put down her sponge from where she was cleaning every counter in sight. “Sorry,” she said. “You know how I get.”

“Yes,” Peg said. “Which is why we hired you. Bifur, Bofur, have you had dinner?”

“A bit,” Bofur said. “But it was a while ago.”

“Then come have more,” Peg said. The boys obeyed and went to the table, where Dis resumed her monologue, which had moved to the topic of Kili’s orchestra concert next week.

“You’re all invited, of course,” she said. “It would be good for you all to get out of this house.”

Bofur glanced at his cousin. “I’m… I’m not sure…” he said.

Bifur, however, nodded eagerly and wrote on his notepad, ‘ _Love to go! Kili still first chair?’_

“He is,” Dis said. “Though the second chair is getting good… it could be quite a battle next year.”

“Of course we’ll be going,” Peg said. “You’re right, we all need to get out of this house... hear some music.”

After dinner, Dis stayed for another hour, doing various domestic tasks no one had been bothered with, before she turned to leave.

“Peg, a word,” she said.

Peg followed her outside. They stood on the porch in the bright spring air. Dis was quiet for a moment, staring at the stars.

“I know you’re angry,” she said. “I know that what happened is… difficult.”

“That’s one word,” Peg muttered.

“Yes,” Dis said. “If it had been one of mine… well, I think you’re doing a great job right now.” She turned and looked at her friend. “But please don’t be angry with Thorin. He feels guilty, and he’s sorry… but it wasn’t his fault. The boys all told me what happened, and there was no way that Thorin could have known…”

“He took them there,” Peg said. “He took them there without checking all the facts… yes, I’m angry that Bifur was hurt, but that’s not all. Dis, they could have been killed.”

“But they weren’t,” Dis said firmly. “They’re all alive… maybe not whole, but they’re alive, and they’re healing. And Thorin… he has a hard enough time forgiving himself without other people.” She reached out and grasped Peg’s shoulder. “Be angry, if you need to be. I understand. But try to forgive him.”

Peg sighed. “I know he’s your brother,” she said. “And I know you love him. But... it’s hard for me to forgive him for putting my only child in danger.”

“I know,” Dis said. “I’ve had trouble forgiving him before. But please try. At least talk to him. Listen to him.”

Peg nodded. “I can try,” she said. “But don’t expect me to be successful.”

Dis nodded back and said good night.

********

“Well, she’s let you on the porch,” Bofur said in greeting as he stepped outside. “Progress.”

“She hasn’t forgiven me yet,” Thorin replied. “Not that I blame her at all.”

“She wasn’t gentle on him, to say the least,” Dwalin added.

“Bofur, do you blame me?” asked Thorin.

“No… not really, I think. I mean… I certainly don’t think you’re completely at fault.”

The door opening cut off Thorin’s response, and Bifur walked out. Dwalin jumped up from the bench to greet him heartily. “How are you doing?”

Bifur shrugged with a little smile. _‘Not dead, could be worse.’_ he wrote.

“You are looking pretty good.” Dwalin made a gesture down his forehead. “Though I do miss the long and wild hair.”

“He sometimes forgets its short, and tries to put it in a ponytail,” Bofur said with a chuckle.

Bifur shrugged at his cousin’s comment. Then without any warning, he pulled Dwalin into a hug. He stiffened for a second when Dwalin’s arms wrapped around him in response, but relaxed again. When they let go, Bifur quickly scrawled on his notepad, _‘Nice to have someone here other than Bofur.’_ He only let Dwalin see it.

“Talking about me?” Bofur guessed at Dwalin’s little laugh.

Bifur didn’t answer, and his gaze went to Thorin, who still sat on the bench, not wanting to intrude on anything. He made a hand motion indicating to the other man that he wanted him to get up. Thorin did so slowly, obviously trying to be cautious.

“It’s alright,” Bofur encouraged. “You haven’t scared him away yet.”

“’Yet.’ What confidence there,” Thorin retorted.

Bifur approached Thorin more slowly than he did Dwalin, but he still ended up pulling him into an embrace as well. This time it was Thorin who stiffened at the touch. “I probably don’t deserve that,” he muttered, though he did return the gesture.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Thorin said when they separated.

Bifur shook his head, and made a negative-sounding noise.

“I am sorry. Very very sorry. You… you almost… because I didn’t do my research, and-“

Bifur put his hand over Thorin’s mouth to make him stop talking, and shook his head again.

“He doesn’t want to hear an apology from you,” Bofur clarified.

Bifur seemed to forget about the notepad, as he tapped Thorin’s chest and made that negative sound again. Then he made a downward swinging movement to Thorin’s head and tried to speak.

Thorin glanced to Bofur for clarification. But Bifur turned Thorin’s face back to him and made the downward motion again, this time bumping the other man’s forehead with the edge of his hand. That hand moved to wave behind Thorin in a vague manner, then came back to thump against Bifur’s chest. Bifur held Thorin’s shoulders and shook his head. He also kept trying to say what he wanted to verbally.

“You didn’t hurt him, so you don’t need to apologize,” Bofur interpreted.

Bifur shot a smile to Bofur to let him know he got it right. Then he sighed and picked up his notepad from where he had dropped it on the bench. _‘Sorry. Sometimes forget to write instead of trying to talk.’_

“That’s fine.” Thorin cleared his throat. “I imagine that would be… difficult to get used to.”

Bifur nodded. He only let Thorin see what he wrote next. _‘Miss hearing my voice. But would miss hearing Bofur’s more.’_

“I regret it came down to that.”

_‘So hard sometimes. Feel lost inside. Always hurts. But no regret for saving Bofur.’_ Bifur turned the page to write for everyone to see, _‘Now tell me things happening with you.’_

********

Bifur grabbed Bofur’s hand as they walked into the community recreation center.

“You alright?” the younger man asked quietly when the door closed behind them. At the jerky shrug, Bofur sighed and assured his cousin that it would be okay.

They had made it past the vending machines, heading for the front desk, when Bifur suddenly stopped and turned. He closed his eyes and leaned forward against the front of the soda machine, his forehead against his arm.

“Hey,” Bofur softly said, placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. “If… if you’re not feeling up to this, I can tell them.”

Bifur sighed and looked sideways to his cousin. He shook his head and pointed to himself.

“Or we could do it another day.”

Bifur held up a finger, indicating he needed a little time to compose himself. After a few deep breaths, he raised his head and pushed away from the vending machine. Though he didn’t move away.

“No need to rush,” Bofur comforted. He lightly pulled Bifur away when someone approached to get a drink.

“Oh, hello, Bofur. Nice to see you in here again,” said the woman, who Bofur recognized as working the front desk.

“Hey,” Bofur replied, though his focus was all on his cousin.

“And… Bifur?” the woman asked, only able to see the back of Bifur’s head. She moved to see the side of his face. “It is you!”

Bifur blinked and came out of his spell.

“I didn’t recognize you with the short hair. We and your students have missed you so much around here, and-“

Bifur turned to face her, and felt a sense of discomfort when her eyes immediately went to the scar on his forehead, and the white streak of his hair.

To her credit, she did take it in quickly and forced her gaze back to meet his. “Are you- how… how have you been? Bombur came in awhile ago saying something had happened to you and-“

Bofur interrupted her with, “Can we take this somewhere else?”

“Uh… sure, yeah. What’s going on? The boss isn’t here, but I… I guess I can handle whatever you need.”

They started walking to a meeting room. Bifur stopped in his tracks and stared across the central area to the piano room where he had taught. Bofur took his hand and whispered, “We can go in when we’re done, if that’s what you want, okay?” Though it took a couple of nudges to make Bifur move again. He clutched his small notebook and Bofur’s hand tightly as they followed the employee.

“You haven’t said anything,” she stated, opening a door for them and gesturing for them to go into the small room.

Bifur took a seat, and Bofur stood slightly beside and behind him. Bifur’s hands shook as he opened his notebook, flipped to the next blank page, and readied his pen. Bofur instinctively moved in close and placed his hand on the back of the older man’s head, lightly running his fingers through the hair.

“Guys? This is weird. I mean-“

“Just give him a minute,” Bofur said. “I think being here again is kind of overwhelming him.”

Bifur glanced up to give an apologetic look. Then he wrote, _‘How have students been?’_

“Fine. We found a temporary teacher for them until you come back, though they don’t seem to like him as much.”

_‘Should find permanent person.’_

“What are you saying?”

_‘Here to say can’t teach anymore. Was attacked in Miami.’_ He gestured to his forehead. _‘Hurt, can’t talk, hard to focus much of time. Can’t teach anymore.’_

“I’m sure we’d be willing to work that out, especially for you.”

Bifur shook his head. ‘ _Deep hurt_.’ He tapped his temple. ‘ _Long time to heal. Not ever be same_.’

“But… you seem fine, other than not talking, and I guess the shaky hands.”

“This is an okay day,” Bofur said. “Some are very hard, and um… I don’t want to get into it.”

The woman let out a long breath. “Right, I see. This is some heavy stuff. You’ll… probably be called to come in to fill out paperwork to… resign.”

Bifur gave a stiff nod, and suddenly stood and, with a quick wave, left the room. Bofur glanced to the woman and said, “It really did hurt him to do this. He… he loved teaching here.”

“I know. Just… take care of him.”

“That’s my job,” Bofur replied with a sad little smile before hurrying out after his cousin. “Bif, wait up!” he called out. Bifur ignored him and kept walking to the piano room. Bofur quickly caught up with him and asked, “Want to see it before we leave?”

Bifur sighed and nodded. Though he hesitated to open the door when they got to it. With a deep breath, he did so, turned on the lights, and went over to the piano.

Bofur hung back as he watched the tender way Bifur ran his hand on the smooth black surface, then opened the lid and trailed his fingers over the keys, not pressing hard enough to make any sound.

Bifur put down his notepad and slowly sank down onto the bench. His eyes closed as he positioned his fingers on the keys. A song came to mind, an Irish folk song, one he always loved playing. But though his fingers began to move across the keys, he still did not press down on them.

Partway through the song that was playing in his head, another drifted into his mind… and a memory along with it.

_Bifur watched Durin’s Sons play from his spot just off-stage, his head bobbing and foot tapping along with the music. Bofur was on drums, like with all their live performances. They really should find a drummer for these occasions, but the pre-programmed keyboard was doing its job well enough._

_“Beware the wolves!” Nori sang out, and the rest of the band echoed him. All four repeated it as they played the last note._

_The song ended, and Bofur hurried over to his keyboard to get the next song ready, flashing Bifur a quick grin. Bifur smiled back, and that expression quickly fell at a shout and the sight of a man jumping onto the stage with a small axe._

_“Bofur!” he called out as the maniac headed for his cousin, jumping up and bolting to him, pushing him out of the way, and taking the blow himself. His fingers gripped the edge of the keyboard, making a loud cacophonous noise…_

“Bifur!”

Bifur jolted from the memory, and found his eyes wet. For a moment, he thought it was blood running down his face and wiped at it frantically. Bofur grabbed his hands and held them together.

“You were remembering it,” Bofur said, knowing the signs.

In answer, Bifur simple slumped sideways against the younger man, head resting against Bofur’s chest. He started crying. Bofur wrapped his arms around him, and soothed, “It’s alright… It’ll be alright…”

They stayed like that for a few minutes. With a shaky hand, Bifur grabbed his notebook and wrote, ‘ _Home now_.’

“Aye, home now.” Bofur took Bifur’s hands and pulled him up to his feet.

 

“How’d it go?” Peg quietly asked, pulling Bofur into the kitchen when she got home.

“As well as it could, I suppose. They’ll… contact us when he needs to sign the resigning papers.” Bofur turned his head away from his aunt. “It’s put him in a right depressed state.”

Peg glanced in the direction of the living room, where she had seen Bifur curled up on the couch. “I knew it would be a bad idea to let him do it.”

“He insisted, even when we were there and I offered to tell them. You know he can be stubborn when he wants to be.”

“Aye…” Peg let out a long breath.

“He remembered, when we went to the music room. He started miming playing, then he suddenly stopped and… He hasn’t said it, but I think he’s afraid he can’t play without remembering it. I mean, he hasn’t touched his piano here, and now this…”

“You haven’t touched it, either,” Peg quietly pointed out. She ran her hand down her face. “It’s… going take time, for both of you.” She pulled her nephew into a hug. “Thank you,” she whispered before letting go.

Bofur followed her to the living room, but stayed back as she tapped Bifur’s shoulder. Bifur lifted his head and torso enough to give her space to sit, then laid back down with his cheek on her thigh. His hand moved to her knee, curling his fingers to start tapping against it. Then his hand suddenly formed into a fist, and Peg put her hand over it, thumb stroking across the back.

“I know…” she breathed, lowering her mouth to his hair. “I know…”


	13. Chapter 13

Bofur ran a hand through his damp hair as he left the bathroom, fresh from a shower. He noticed his bedroom in slight disarray as he threw his pajamas into his laundry hamper. Bofur shrugged off the uneasy feeling and brushed his hair.

“Bifur, you awake?” Bofur called out as he finished his morning routine. He sighed at the lack of an answer, and went to Bifur’s room. He wasn’t there. “I hope you’re not trying to cook eggs again,” he muttered as he went left the bedroom.

Bofur went to the kitchen to make breakfast, and stopped in his tracks when he saw Bifur sitting in a dining chair, turned away from the table. “You’re not supposed to have that,” he slowly said at the carving tools on the table and in his cousin’s hands, along with a started wood carving. Bofur had been keeping Bifur’s tools hidden in his room, on Oin’s suggestion to not let Bifur have something that could be dangerous right now. Then he realized that his room had been gone through.

Then Bofur noticed crimson dripping down his cousin’s hands and staining the floor. The blood already was making him breathe shallowly, but what truly scared him was the fact that Bifur was not reacting at all to the deep cuts on his fingers and hands. He was completely engrossed in whatever he was carving, eyes wide as he stared at the piece of wood.

Bofur snapped out of his shock and rushed to Bifur, practically knocking the wood and small knife from his hands. “What are you doing?” he nearly shrieked as panic set in. He closed his eyes for a second as he stepped on the blood on the floor. It was impossible to ignore the red-stained bleeding hands.

Bifur tilted his head up, though his eyes were glazed over. Bofur took the older man’s face in his hands to stare into those eyes. He swallowed in an attempt to keep the fear from his voice. “Come back! You hear me? Come back here, with me…” Bofur tapped Bifur’s cheek with his fingers. “Come on, Bif, please…” Bofur swallowed and bent down to press their foreheads together.

It took a moment for Bifur to let out a cry as he came back to his senses. Bofur moved back as Bifur brought his hands close to him, the now-clear eyes staring at his blood-stained hands. He let out another and louder cry as the pain finally registered.

Bofur stepped back in to hold his cousin close. Bifur’s arms immediately wrapped around his middle and his hurting hands fisted tightly in the back of his shirt. Bifur bit his lip, though it did little to muffle the verbalized pain.

“It’s okay…” Bofur soothed. He reached to his back pocket and took out his phone, then scrolled through his contacts over Bifur’s shoulder. His other hand moved up to splay through Bifur’s hair and comfort him. He kissed the top of the other’s head at the tears dampening his chest.

At Oin’s name, Bofur pressed the call button, muttering for the doctor to please pick up. He let out a breath of relief when he answered, though Oin’s voice was heavily underlined with sleepiness. “Yes, Bofur?”

“It’s Bifur, he’s-“ Bofur let out a wince as Bifur’s hands dug harder into his back. “He’s cut up his hands real bad. I-“

“I’ll be there in a few minutes. Try to keep his hands wrapped and put pressure on them.” Oin said before hanging up.

“See what you’ve gone and made me do?” Bofur attempted to joke. He tried to move away to grab a towel from the kitchen, but Bifur didn’t let go at all. “Bif, I need to-“ he sighed as his cousin’s hands gripped his shirt tighter. “I suppose this is already ruined, anyway.”

Bofur managed to maneuver out of his tshirt and blindly wrap it around Bifur’s hands. It was an awkward position to hold his hands tightly over Bifur’s behind his back to keep the pressure on, but Bofur didn’t complain.

Bifur let out pained sobs and apologetic sounds into Bofur’s bare chest.

“I’ll be okay,” Bofur soothed. “Oin will be here soon.”

Bifur shook his head, and tried talking again. He attempted to reach out to the table, probably for his notepad.

Bofur tightened his hold on Bifur’s hands to stop him from moving. “No, don’t do that. Keep still.” In a softer tone, he said, “I’m not upset at you. You just… scared me. I know you’ve missed carving, so I can’t really blame you for this.”

They both flinched at the knocking a short time later. “Oin’s here,” Bofur said, attempting to get out of Bifur’s hold. “Bifur, I have to open the door. I’ll be right back,” he said, prying the arms around his waist open. “Keep your hands together,” he instructed when they separated.

“Thanks for coming so fast,” Bofur greeted as he opened the door. “I didn’t think I would be able to get him to the hospital quickly, or if it was bad enough, and-”

“No worries,” Oin replied, not even raising an eyebrow at the younger man’s lack of shirt.

Bofur led Oin to the dining room, where Bifur was sitting very still, holding his hands together in the shirt. “He wasn’t trying to hurt himself,” Bofur said, feeling the need to defend his cousin’s actions.

“I know,” Oin assured, kneeling in front of Bifur. He placed his medical bag on the table and took the other man’s wrapped hands in his and gently unwound the shirt to see the damage.

Bifur hissed as his hands were unfurled, but otherwise didn’t move or make a sound. Bofur went behind him and bent over, wrapping his arms around Bifur’s chest to hold him close.

“Good news is that one is less damaged than the other,” Oin said after a short moment. He told Bofur to get a small tub of warm water and clean towel.

Bofur quickly did so, and returned to his position behind his cousin. He couldn’t bear to watch Oin work, not with the blood still coming from Bifur’s hands and staining them and the floor.

“Bad news is the worse one will need stitches,” Oin continued after cleaning some of the blood away. He encouraged, “You’re doing very good, Bifur.”

Bifur did keep still as Oin worked, though Bofur wasn’t sure if that was through conscious effort, or if he wasn’t physically feeling it again. Either way, Bifur was staring at his hands.

Oin stopped the bleeding, gave the hurt man pain medication, and Bifur finally reacted. He flinched away from the stitching needle as it neared a gash on a finger. Bofur made shushing and soothing sounds to get Bifur back to being as calm as he was. Bifur shuddered, and turned his head to press his face into his cousin’s cheek.

“You’re still doing well. This won’t hurt much, and it needs to be done, alright?” Oin said.

Bifur started shaking, but he didn’t try to say anything. Oin simply held the injured man’s hands between his for a moment to calm the muscles. Once Bifur was settled enough, Oin worked quickly and efficiently. Bifur didn’t look at his hands again until the doctor had secured the last bandage around them.

“If you were about twenty years younger, I would give you candy,” Oin said lightly. Bifur cracked a quick small smile. Oin continued, “But for now, you can go rest on the couch.”

Bifur looked up to his cousin, who nodded and gestured to the living room with his head.

Once Bifur got up and jerkily walked to the couch and laid down, Bofur ran a hand down his face. “Thanks. It’s…”

“I know,” Oin nodded with an assuring smile.

“Right, I should get this cleaned, I suppose.” Bofur sighed at the blood on the floor, closing his eyes at the nausea that rose in his stomach.

“I’ve got it. I’ll stay for a bit to monitor him. Have you two eaten yet?”

“Not yet. I was coming to make breakfast when I saw… Can I make you anything? It’s the least I can do.”

“Coffee is fine. For Bifur, you shouldn’t make anything heavy. Toast or a bagel.”

“I’m not in the mood for anything more than coffee and a bagel, either,” Bofur remarked, turning to the coffee maker.

“I’ll take one, too,” Oin added. “But first, put a shirt on. I’d rather not find a chest hair in my food.”

Bofur couldn’t help the short chuckle, having needed something to break his tension. “Yeah… be right back,” he said after getting the coffee started. He hurried to his room, grabbed a shirt, then went to the bathroom. He turned around, checking himself in the mirror for any blood on his back. He wiped at the bottom of his feet, too, remembering that he had stepped in it.

Once Bofur felt clean, he pulled on the new shirt. He took a few deep breaths before heading back out to make breakfast. He checked on his cousin on the way to the kitchen, and left him to lying there with his eyes closed. Oin had cleaned most of the blood from the floor, and the carving tools and partially-carved piece of wood were on the table. Bofur noticed something about the doctor. “That’s new.”

“Hm?” Oin turned.

Bofur tapped his left ear, indicating the hearing aid.

“Oh, yes. I realized I was asking people to repeat themselves too much. Thought they were getting sick of me asking, too.”

Bofur nodded, and turned to get the bagels and butter from the fridge. He put two bagels in the toaster and let out a long breath. In a low voice, he said, “I thought he wouldn’t do anything like this now. I mean, it’s been long enough, right?”

“He’s still got a long way to go,” Oin said, stuffing the used paper towels into a small plastic bag. “Shirt?”

“Toss it.” Bofur went to the table and picked up the carving. His eyes widened when he realized what the started shape was. “He was making an axe.”

Oin leaned over to see. “Now that is interesting.”

“You think he actually remembers what it looked like? I do, but he didn’t exactly get a chance for a good look.”

“Perhaps.” Oin washed his hands and said, “When his hands are healed enough, you should let him carve again.”

Bofur filled two mugs with coffee. “But what if he does this again?”

“Obviously someone will monitor him and make sure he doesn’t. But I think it’s been long enough for him without doing things that are a big part of who he is.”

“I’d hoped he might’ve started playing piano again. Though I haven’t yet, either, so…”

“Let him carve again. It might help him stay focused and mentally present longer and more often. At this point in his recovery, we’ve done pretty much all we can physically.”

“Right,” Bofur breathed. He finished preparing the food, and took the bagel slices out to the living room table. Oin sat on the armchair with his coffee. Bofur set his mug down, and went back for a cup of orange juice for Bifur.

“I doubt Bofur is very hungry, either, but as your doctor, I’m going to insist on you both eating,” Oin said, convincing Bifur to sit up.

“He’s staying for a bit,” Bofur added. “So he’s going to make sure we do.”

Bifur grumbled, but took the offered cup of juice with his less-injured hand. At the way that hand shook, Bofur helped him hold it steady as he drank. Bifur was able to handle the bagel slice better.

“Oh shit,” Bofur said after a couple minutes of quiet as they ate. “Should let dad and Aunt Peg know… Phone’s in my room, I’ll be right back.”

Bifur grunted, then tapped his ears. Bofur nodded, “I’ll get that, too.”

Bofur sent off a text to his father and aunt that said, ‘Bifur cut his hands up bad. Oin over now and took care of it.’ After a moment, he also sent one to Bombur with a similar message. Then he went to Bifur’s room to get his cousin’s ipod. He returned to Oin asking Bifur about possibly learning sign language.

Oin looked up as Bofur entered. “Of course, it would be more useful if everyone else learned, too.”

“Sign language?” Bofur asked as he gave Bifur his ipod. He said light-heartedly, “I barely got through required high school Spanish. Though I suppose my accent can’t ruin it, like the Spanish teacher kept saying.”

Bifur shrugged to Oin before putting his headphones on and finishing his breakfast. Bofur had just sat back down when his phone vibrated. “Aunt Peg is coming back home now.” He barely steadied his hand holding his coffee mug before it could spill as Bifur curled up on the sofa and laid his head in the younger man’s lap.

Bofur and Oin talked quietly about other things, until the front door opened to Peg rushing inside. “Is he alright? How badly is he hurt?” she urgently asked, kneeling in front of her son.

Oin answered her questions. Bofur got up to clean up the dishes. Peg took his place on the couch and as Bifur’s pillow. Brian arrived a short time later. After checking on Bifur and getting the details from Oin, he took Bofur by the arm to the back porch.

“Are you alright?” Brian asked as they sat on the steps.

Bofur let out a long breath through his nose. “I… suppose I will be.”

“Not what I asked.”

In answer, Bofur drew his knees up to his chest, and leaned into his father’s side. He closed his eyes at the arm that went around his shoulders and pulled him close.

********

Bofur paused on his way past Bifur’s room, hearing shaky breaths and sobs. “Bifur?” he asked with a little knock on the ajar door. His cousin had been quiet and withdrawn since the carving incident a couple days ago.

Bifur was sitting on the edge of the bed, away from the door, bent over with his head in his less-injured hand. Next to him was his notebook, but with several pages ripped out and strewn across the sheets.

“What’s all this about?” Bofur asked, picking up a piece of paper to read in the dimly-lit room. Scrawled all over it, in no order, were the same words again and again. Useless, burden , stupid, sick, hurts. Bofur bit his lip and glanced to the other papers on the bed. They all had the same words. He dropped the one in his hand, and went around to kneel in front of Bifur.

“Look at me?” Bofur pleaded, gently taking the wrist of his cousin’s stitched and bandaged hand. At Bifur’s response of trying to curl in on himself, Bofur rose slightly. “No, no, no… don’t do that, please? Talk to me? At least look at me?”

Bifur lowered his hands, and his tear-filled eyes shined in the darkness. Bofur placed one hand on his cousin’s cheek. “What you were writing… you are not useless or stupid or whatever else, aye?”

Bifur lowered his gaze with a shake of his head. He flexed his injured fingers with a hiss of pain.

“You know that Oin said your hands will heal up perfectly fine, but this isn’t really about that, is it?” Bofur sat next to his cousin on the bed. “You are not useless.”

Bifur picked up his notebook and pen. ‘ _Burden. You and Ma and Uncle_.’

“No, stop that. You’re not.”

Bifur looked away and his teeth bared for a second from anger. ‘ _You here, taking care of me._ ’ He raised his heavily-bandaged hand up. ‘ _I cause hurt, to me and you_.’

“No. I need you to believe you’re not.” Bofur drew one leg up onto the bed to turn to Bifur, and laid his hand on the other man’s. He swallowed heavily, trying to push past the rising lump in his throat. “If… if this happened to me… if I… would you think of me as a burden?”

Bifur vehemently shook his head, accompanied with a harsh throaty sound.

“Then why-“ Bofur’s voice cracked. “Why would you imagine we think that of you?”

Bifur clenched his pen tightly.

“If this happened to me, and I was feeling so down like this… you would tell me what I’m telling you.”

Bifur looked up, knowing the statement was true.

“So, would you take your own advice?” Bofur asked, staring into his cousin’s eyes.

Bifur’s gaze went down to their hands. Bofur moved in closer to press their foreheads together. “I know this is hard for you. I know you’re scared and hurting and… because I’m scared, too.” Bofur closed his eyes as his welling tears finally flowed. “But we’ll get through this together, like we always have. I would never… not ever abandon you. None of us would. Not your ma, my dad, Bombur… We’ll make it through together, got it?”

Bifur dropped his pen and raised his hand to rest it on Bofur’s cheek. Bofur’s lip trembled as he whispered, “I love you, aye? I love you.”

Bifur threw his arms around the other man’s neck and kissed the side of his mouth.

“We’ll make it through together…”

 

When Peg came home from work, Bofur intercepted her before she could check on her son. He gave her one of the ripped-out sheets of paper from Bifur’s notebook. “I found him writing this over and over. I’ve already talked to him, and I think I got through, but-“

Peg read the page, and nodded. She hugged him, then went to Bifur’s room.


	14. Chapter 14

 Bofur glanced over to Bifur while he cleaned up the living room. His cousin was sitting on the couch, doodling in his notebook. Bofur raised his eyebrow at what the subject of those doodles were, but didn’t comment. He didn’t look forward to Bifur trying to carve that damn axe again, when his hand healed enough. Safer for him to be drawing it.

 “Feet up,” Bofur instructed, bringing the vacuum out. Bifur wordlessly obeyed, too involved in his drawings to otherwise respond. Bofur’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and he waited until turning off the vacuum to look at the message. “Bombur’s not too far away now. shouldn’t be long for him to get home. Means you’ll have someone other than me for regular company.”

 Bifur did glance up to smile at that. He quickly wrote, _‘Good to see him again_.’ He put his notebook down and watched as Bofur put away the vacuum. When the younger man walked in front of him again, Bifur grabbed his wrist and yanked him down.

 “Bif!” Bofur yelped in surprise. Before he could physically react, he was sitting sideways on his cousin’s lap. He tried to get up, but Bifur’s hold on him, even with the injured hand, was too tight for him to easily escape. He sighed with a little smile as their heads nearly butted when Bifur adjusted their position. “You do realize I’ve been taller than you for some time, right? Holding me like this can’t be as comfortable as it used to be.”

 Bifur made a little shushing noise and tightened his arms. Bofur let out an amused little snort and replied, “Right, then. Suppose the house is clean enough.” As Bifur lowered his head to rest his cheek against Bofur’s chest, Bofur adjusted his legs and settled into the hold. He tipped his head forward and kissed his cousin’s temple.

 It didn’t take long for Bifur to fall asleep. Bofur carefully maneuvered his hand down to his pocket to get his vibrating phone. He replied to Bombur’s text that he was almost home with, ‘Come in quietly.’ Then he started playing a game on his phone to pass the time.

 A few minutes later, Bombur came in, quietly dropping his bags near the door and coming over to them. “Ah, thought it was something like this.”

 Bofur raised his brow. “He was insistent.”

 “Don’t want to wake him?”

 “You can do it,” Bofur chuckled. He instructed, “Hug him from behind. Still the best thing he responds to.”

 Bombur went around the sofa to hug the sleeping Bifur. Bofur tapped his cousin’s hand to help gently wake him. Bifur tilted his head back and opened his eyes, a smile immediately lighting up his face at the sight of the young man over him.

 Bofur let out an indignant cry as Bifur apparently completely forgot about him and turned around to hug Bombur back, resulting in Bofur falling to the floor. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best way to do it this time,” he mumbled as he rubbed his knee.

 “It'll take a bit to get used to the beard you’re growing,” Bombur commented as Bifur’s facial hair tickled the side of his neck.

 “He won’t let dad help him shave anymore,” Bofur explained. “Trying out a new look, I suppose.”

 When they separated, Bombur held Bifur at arm’s length to get a good look at him. “Short hair and growing a beard…” At Bifur’s little shrug and sheepish smile, he added, “I think it’ll work.”

 Bofur  got back up on the couch and smiled as he watched them catch up with each other, Bifur writing his questions and responses in his notebook.

 ********

 Bofur was in the middle of washing dishes after dinner, a few days since Bombur had come home, when someone grabbed his shoulders from behind and pulled him away. “Bifur…” he started, knowing who it was without needing to look.

 Bombur got up from the table to grab the sponge from his brother’s hand and turn off the faucet, and didn’t stop Bifur from pulling Bofur away from the kitchen.

 “Alright, alright, you’ve got me,” Bofur relented and turned around. “What is it?” He noticed Peg, Brian, and Bombur following them with their eyes.

 Bifur spun Bofur back around to push him, grunting a reply.

 “No, no, Bifur… I can’t do that,” Bofur protested when they approached Bifur’s piano.

 Bifur didn’t accept the answer, and pushed his cousin down to sit on the bench. He didn’t have to try to say or write anything, what he wanted was clear.

 “Bifur, I can’t- it still hurts,” Bofur objected.

 Peg said, “It would be nice to hear a piano played again.”

 “No harm in trying,” Brian encouraged.

 Bofur gave them both a little glare before looking back up to Bifur. His cousin was silently pleading, needing him to play. Bofur bit his lip and stared down at his hands. He wasn’t ready to play again. The memories were still there, still too fresh. The confusion, blood, fear… Then he realized he didn’t have to face all that alone. His gaze went back up to meet Bifur’s eyes, and he took his right hand. “Only if you do it with me.”

 Bifur tilted his head, and slightly raised his injured and still-bandaged hand.

 “You’ve got this one, and it’s properly healed.” Bofur tightened his grip on his cousin’s hand.

 Bifur stared down at their hands, though his face was unreadable. He barely flinched when his mother came up behind him and placed a hand on his back.

 “I do think it’s only fair,” Peg encouraged. “Give it a try, aye?”

 “I can’t do it without you,” Bofur stated.

 Bifur glanced between Bofur, Peg, and Brian and Bombur, who had moved in closer to offer moral support. He wasn’t afraid, not really. Mostly unsure. But he had to try, he couldn’t let Bofur down so completely. Bifur nodded, and sat on the left side of the bench.

 Wordlessly, Bifur and Bofur turned around to the piano and placed their fingers on the keys. Bifur remembered his injured hand, and removed it, resting it in his lap. They didn’t need to say which song. They both instinctively knew. It was one they had played together since Bifur had taught it to Bofur as a child. They didn’t need to say when to start playing. They knew each other too well to not be in tune with each other.

 The upbeat Irish song sounded out through the room. Despite only playing one-handed, Bifur didn’t seem to miss a note or cue from Bofur.

 The horrifying memories of that night in Miami didn’t overwhelm them as they played, didn’t intrude on what they were doing now. Doing this again, together, made them feel free and as though things hadn’t changed. They were still in sync with each other, hadn’t lost anything between each other and with the instrument.

 They didn’t sing, or even try to, but simply playing again was enough. The words might come later, but for now all they needed were their fingers flying across the keys.

 They came to the end of the song, which was met with applause from their family, and by Peg kissing them both on the cheek, commenting, “See? I knew you both could do it.”

 Bifur let out a long breath, and laid his head on Bofur’s shoulder, a contented smile on his face. He could still play. He hadn’t lost this, and neither had Bofur. They had not lost this.

 ********

 Bofur looked up from his book as his brother came into his bedroom rather excitedly. Bombur gestured for him to get up. “Come down, the guys are here, and… they’ve got something for you.”

 “Not a ‘gift’ from Nori, is it?” Bofur joked, putting the book down.

 “Just come on.” Bombur bounded out and back downstairs.

 Bofur followed a little slower, and then froze at the sight of his family, and Thorin, Fili, Kili, and Nori standing around a keyboard set up in the middle of the living room. A huge grin lit up his face as he hurried over to them.

 “Since you started playing again, we thought…” Thorin explained.

 Bofur enthusiastically inspected and admired the keyboard. “This is a better model than the one I had!”

 “It’s plugged in,” Brian prompted.

 Bofur didn’t need another word to start pressing on the keys and testing it out. “Oh aye, this one is better…” He stopped after a moment and looked up at everyone else smiling at him.

  _‘Do you like it?’_ Bifur showed the younger man the question already written in his notebook.  

 “Do I- of course I do!” Bofur went around the keyboard to pull his cousin into a tight hug.

 “Got a new case for it, too,” Kili informed, pointing to a box on the couch.

 Bofur glanced between everyone, to the keyboard, then at the group again, tears threatening to leak from his eyes from all the emotion. “You all are amazing, you know that?”

 “Amazing is certainly one way to describe me,” Nori grinned.

 “He said all of us,” Fili replied.

 “Yes, well, we all know he meant just me.” Nori ran a hand through his hair at the familiar chuckles to the banter.

 Bofur shook his head and hugged everyone. Thorin accepted it more stiffly than anyone else, but Bofur didn’t care and squeezed him a little tighter before letting him go.

 “So… can you bring it over so we can play together tonight?” asked Kili.

 “Aye, of course. Just let me have some time with it first. Not too long, I promise.”

 “Alone time? Better leave the room, lads,” Brian teased.

 “Thanks, Dad. I knew someone was going to say that,” Bofur sighed with affection. Still, the others did go to the kitchen to let him figure out the features and settings of the instrument. As Nori went past, his hand lingered on Bofur’s shoulder, and they smiled at each other. Bifur was last, and kissed the side of the younger man’s mouth, then brought their foreheads together for a short moment. Bofur replied to the nonverbal statement, “I love you, too. Thank you, for this.”

 Bifur spread his hand over Bofur’s chest and nodded before going to join the others.

 Bofur returned to admiring the keyboard, looking forward to playing with the other guys again. While it would take some time before he could play a certain song, he knew he was ready to be with them again.

 In the kitchen, Peg turned to Thorin, and quietly said, “Thank you, for helping with this.”

 “Least I could do,” Thorin nodded.


	15. Chapter 15

 “What do you think?” Nori asked, taking off his light hoodie. He turned so that his sleeveless arm was showing off the large tattoo on the upper half of his arm.

 “Finally got it finished?” Bombur asked.

 “Yeah, like an hour ago.”

 Bofur and Bombur admired the tribal-design black fox leaping down. Brian shook his head as he came into the living room to see it, and commented, “Careful with that, Bofur might swoon.”

 “When have I swooned over anything like this?” Bofur shot his father a dirty look.

 Brian shrugged. “First time for everything.” To Nori, he complimented, “Very nice, you went to a good artist.”

 “Bifur’s not here?” Nori asked. “I also wanted to show him.”

 “He’s out with Aunt Peg for the day,” Bombur answered. “Think they said they’ll be back by dinnertime.”

 “Mind if I stay for dinner?” Nori asked Brian. At his nod, he turned back to the other two. “Thinking of getting one on my other arm.”

 “Another fox?” Bofur asked.

 Nori shook his head. “Nah, something else.” He grinned a little, indicating it would be kept secret for the time being.

 The three of them played video games for a bit. When Bombur bowed out, Bofur turned the system off and told Nori, “I’ve had a tune stuck in my head, and been trying to make it work into something. Want to hear it?” At Nori’s nod, Bofur led him up to his bedroom, where his keyboard was set up, and closed the door.

 After talking over what Bofur was working on, and playing a couple songs together, Bofur stood up and stretched his arms over his head. “Oh, those hospital chairs are a killer. You’d think they’d have something more comfortable.”

 “Bifur is still going in for appointments?”

 “Aye, and will be for a while yet. Making sure nothing sneaks up on him because of what happened. Not as many now as before, but…”

 Nori placed a hand on Bofur’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m no expert, but that does feel tense.” He swallowed, then tentatively asked, “Would you mind if I…?”

 Bofur sat on the edge of his bed. “Can’t hurt.”

 Nori got on the bed behind his friend, and gently put his hands on the other’s shoulders. He started out nervously, but Bofur didn’t seem to mind. Then Bofur asked him to go lower, and laid down on his front to let Nori do so.

 Bofur let out a little groan as Nori’s fingers dug into his upper back. “Not too bad,” he said about the technique. After a minute or so, Bofur joked, “You do happy endings?”

 Nori’s hands froze on Bofur’s back, and he managed to say after a few seconds, “If… if you want.”

 Bofur propped himself up on one arm and turned his torso and head to look at Nori. His friend’s face was… nervous, but oddly determined. “I-I didn’t mean it, I mean-“

 “I know you were joking. But, I…” Nori swallowed. “I want to.”

 “You… want to?” Bofur saw the switch in Nori’s expression from nervous and determined to completely open and vulnerable.

 Nori glanced down to the sheets. “Only if you want, of course.”

 Bofur tilted Nori’s head up with fingers under his chin. He smiled, and answered, “Okay.” Their gazes stayed locked for a few seconds, affirming without speaking that this was what they both wanted.

 Nori cleared his throat, and Bofur laid back down. “Just… let me know if this gets weird or anything.”

 Bofur slightly tensed as Nori’s hands slowly went down his back. He forced himself to breathe calmly, excited and anxious at the same time. His couldn’t suppress the shiver as Nori pushed the back of his shirt up. “Bastard,” he giggled as those fingers took the opportunity to briefly tickle his sides.

 “Couldn’t resist,” Nori chuckled.

 Bofur had completely relaxed when Nori moved to straddle the back of his thighs and bent over to kiss the base of Bofur’s neck. His fingers tightened their grip on the pillow.

 “You alright?” Nori asked.

 “Aye… keep going?”

 Nori answered by moving his mouth down past the bunched up shirt to the skin of Bofur’s back. He kept his hands moving as well, up and down Bofur’s sides.

 Bofur grunted at the sensations of Nori’s weight on him, pressing down on him, the kissing mouth and prodding fingers… His eyes fluttered closed. He opened them again when Nori moved away, and his fingers pulled at the waistband of Bofur’s jeans, silently asking for permission.

 Bofur shifted his hips, pushing back against Nori, inviting him to go ahead. Nri tapped his back, and asked him to turn over, lifting up slightly to let Bofur move. Bofur did, and Nori settled on his thighs again. He bent over, this time for a proper kiss. Though that didn’t last long before Nori moved his mouth down Bofur’s neck, collarbone, and chest.

 Bofur tried to keep himself still, but couldn’t stop his legs from squirming under Nori’s weight.

 “This is good?”

 “Aye…” was all Bofur could say.

 Then Nori became more bold, capturing Bofur’s lips with his for a more heated kiss. Bofur responded in kind, finally letting his hands let go of the sheets to grip Nori’s sides. Nori’s hand splayed across Bofur’s chest, pressing him down to kiss him harder. Bofur’s hand moved up Nori’s arm, over the new tattoo.

 Nori nipped at Bofur’s bottom lip as he pulled away, and moved down Bofur’s torso. His hands trailed down to the waistband of Bofur’s jeans. He looked up, silently asking permission. Bofur nodded, his hips unconsciously squirming. Nori’s agile fingers quickly undid the button and zipper, and started pulling them down…

 

 Bofur let out a sigh as he turned his head into Nori’s hair, and tightened his arm around him. They were laying together, Nori’s head on Bofur’s chest.

 “Did you like it?” Nori asked, a taste of nervousness in his voice.

 “Yes,” Bofur said, his smile widening. “That was good.”

 “Wasn’t weird?”

 Bofur shook his head and verbally answered. “Not at all.”

 “Good.” Nori moved his head to look at Bofur. “Good, because… I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

 “You have?”

 Nori nodded. “I… I love you.”

 Bofur placed his hand over Nori’s on his bare abdomen. “How long?”

 “Since before Miami. I was planning to talk to you about it when we got back, but with Bifur and all that… didn’t feel right.”

 Bofur gently bumped their foreheads together. “I’d say now’s a good time.”

 Nori slightly moved back. “You mean it?”

 “Of course I do.” Bofur let out a long breath. “If I hadn’t been so… distracted, I would’ve come to this realization sooner.” He kissed Nori’s nose. “I love you, too.”

 Nori propped himself up on his arm to look down at Bofur. His face split into a wide smile, and so did Bofur’s as they started laughing from relief and finally acknowledging their feelings.  

 

 Bofur and Nori jumped at the knock on the door. Bombur called through it, “Aunt Peg brought pizza.”

 They quickly pulled on their clothes and fixed their hair. “Not going to tell everyone yet?” Bofur asked.

 “Give it a week. See if anyone figures out before we tell them,” Nori replied with a playful grin. “Any bets?”

 “I’ll save wagers for another day, after they’ve all seen us and had a chance. Come on, before they get suspicious already.”

 They nearly bumped into Bifur, who was coming upstairs to put a shopping bag in his room. “Oh, hey, Bifur!” Nori greeted. “I wanted to show you this,” he turned his body to show off the new tattoo.

 Bifur put down the bag to take Nori’s arm and pull it towards him for a better look. He traced over the design with a finger, humming his approval. Then he pulled his small notepad from his back pocket and asked, ‘ _Beautiful. Why fox?’_

 Nori fished in the pocket of his hoodie, which was tied around his waist.

 Bifur went completely still at the item Nori pulled out. A wood-carved and painted fox, the same one he had made for Nori when he was six years old. After a moment, he reached out for it, and Nori let him hold it. The paint was a bit worn in places, but that didn’t make it any less beautiful. He knew that Bofur and Bombur still had the badger and collie dog he had made for them, but to know that Nori also had held onto his…

 “The fox… it’s what I identify with, thanks in part to you,” Nori explained. “That means a lot to me.”

 Bifur nodded, and handed the carved fox back. Without warning, he pulled him into a hug and kissed the side of his head. When he let go, he picked up his bag and continued to his room.

 “Think you almost made him cry,” Bofur remarked as they went downstairs. “But in a good way.”

 Dinner went well enough, talking and joking. Bofur and Nori tried not to exchange too many suspicious glances with each other.

 Nori stuck around for a little longer, then said his goodbye and went to leave. He made it out the front door and halfway down the steps when a strong hand grabbed the back of his shirt and stopped him in his tracks. He turned to see Bifur there, an unreadable expression on his face, which only unnerved Nori, making him feel like he had done something wrong.

 The screen door swung closed behind Bifur, and he pulled Nori over to the bench, and pushed him down to sit. Nori nervously asked, “What can I do for you?”

 Bifur took out his notepad and pen, thinking for a moment before writing, _‘You and Bofur?’_  

 “Me and Bofur, what?” Nori innocently replied.

 Bifur gave him a knowing look, and wrote, _‘Don’t give me that.’_

 “Well, I suppose that didn’t take long.” Nori saw no point in trying to fool the older man. If anyone knew Bofur better than he knew himself, it would be Bifur. “Yeah… Me and Bofur are together now.” He smirked, “Right before I showed you my tattoo, actually.” 

 Bifur’s face lit up with a smile as he nodded.

 “Oh, good. You’re not upset about it. Had me worried, there.”

 Bifur sat next to him. _‘Why would upset me? You’re family. Troublesome member, but family.’_

 “I don’t know, Bofur can be troublesome well enough,” Nori teased.

 Bifur nodded, and his smile faded as he stared out to the road. After a minute, he scrawled, _‘I protect him. Don’t want to protect from you.’_

 The meaning was clear. “You know I don’t get into the kind of trouble I used to. Not since…” Nori swallowed, hand going to the carving in his pocket. “And I would never purposely do anything to hurt him.”

 Bifur patted Nori’s knee. _‘I know. I trust you.’_

 “Your job to give me the talk, I understand.”

 Bifur nodded with an assuring little smile.

 Nori stood and requested, “Would you mind not telling anyone else? We want to see if anyone else figures it out before we tell them.”

 Bifur brought his fingers across his lips in a zippering motion. Then he waved, letting Nori know he was done with him.

 “See you around,” Nori replied, skipping down the steps to his car. Before he drove off, he texted Bofur, _‘Should’ve bet on Bifur.’_

 ********

 For a week, Bofur and Nori did their best to act normally when with anyone else, and aside from a couple questioning looks from Ori, it didn’t seem like anyone had figured it out. Or if they had, they weren’t letting on they did.

 Now they had their family and friends gathered in Dis’ house. Nori had organized it, just saying he had an announcement to make to everyone. Nori noticed Ori lean over to Bifur and quietly ask him something.

 When Thorin arrived, accounting for everyone, Bofur cleared his throat and stood in front of them all. Nori came up to stand by his side. “It’s not just Nori who has something to announce. It’s got to do with both of us.”

 A huge grin appeared on Nori’s face just before he grabbed Bofur and kissed him hard. It wasn’t the way they had planned on saying it, but it was more fun.

 “Took you two long enough,” Brian was first to comment when the two separated. Dis giggled into her hand. Others were nodding, some a little more shocked than others, but it was all positive.

 “How long have you been thinking we’d get together, Dad?” Bofur asked.

 “Five years or so.”

 Bofur and Nori glanced to each other, then back to Brian. “Really?” they responded in unison.

 “Oh, aye. Since you were fifteen. All the signs were there…”

 Bofur sighed, and Nori grinned even more. “Guess that seals it, then.”

 “Makes perfect since to us,” Kili said.

 “How long has this been going on?” asked Dori.

 “A week. We waited to see if anyone would figure it out,” Nori answered.

 “Right…” Dori sighed. “Making me feel stupid for not noticing.” He side-eyed Dis. “You figured it out, didn’t you.”

 Dis shrugged. “I wasn’t going to say anything until they did.”

 After a round of congratulations and the like, and they broke off, Dori took Bofur aside. Bofur knew what was coming.

 “I trust you, you know that, right?” Dori started.

 “Aye. Don’t worry, Bifur did the same to Nori last week.”

 Right. Well, I’m reminding you not to hurt him, even though I know you wouldn’t.”

 “Maybe we should do something to each other,” Bofur joked. “Get you and Bifur into a fight.”

 Dori raised a brow. “I’d rather not.”

 “Afraid you’d lose?”

 “Point is,” Dori said with a roll of his eyes. “He might not like it, me still trying to look after him, but I do try.” He flashed an amused smile. “And you do bring your own trouble, sometimes.”

 “Might be incentive to break us up, in that case.”

 Dori chuckled. “Make him happy. I know that’s not hard for you.”

 “Yeah,” Bofur looked across the room to his boyfriend. “I’ve got that covered.”


	16. Chapter 16

  _Bombur flinched at yet another clap of thunder, and hugged his beanie babies closer to him. He didn’t like thunderstorms. Though really, what five-year-old did? They were scary things, loud noises and flashes of light. They brought hard rain and wind pummeling at his window._

_He wondered if Bofur was also being kept awake by it, so he got up, taking a beanie baby with him for comfort. He got o Bofur’s room and pushed the door more open than it was and peered inside. “Bofur?” he whispered. His brother didn’t respond, so he backed out. At another thunderclap, he clutched his toy close, and wondered what to do now. Maybe his parents would let him sleep with them tonight._

_Then Bombur heard someone moving around downstairs. Maybe it was one of them, and he wouldn’t have to wake them up. He padded down the stairs, and softly called out, “Ma? Dad?”_

_It wasn’t either of them, he found out when he got to the kitchen. Bifur was there, headphones over one ear and doing a little swaying dance as he waited for the microwave to finish heating a snack. Bombur was confused. How could Bifur be dancing while waiting for food, with what was probably homework on the table, this late and with a storm raging outside?_

_A particularly loud thunder rumble caught Bombur off guard, and he let out a little squeak. Bifur swiftly spun around and pulled the headphones down  around his neck. “Didn’t know I had an audience,” he remarked. He turned back around to open the microwave before it could beep, and pulled out a plate of pizza rolls. He set them on the table and asked, “What are you doing up? Way past your bedtime.”_

_Bombur climbed onto a chair. “Storm scaring me,” he mumbled._

_“Ah, I see.” Bifur turned off the CD walkman and set it and the headphone on his textbook. He pushed his loose hair over his shoulders as he sat. He pushed the plate of pizza rolls between him and Bombur, inviting the boy to eat._

_“Bofur’s sleeping. I thought ma or dad was awake.” Bombur took a pizza roll, blew on it, then took a bite. He wasn’t really hungry, but ate it anyway from nervousness. He looked up to his cousin. “Storm not bothering you?”_

_Bifur shook his head. “Never really did.” He chuckled. “It rains a lot in Ireland. And with a lot of rain can come storms. I find it kind of calming, really.”_

_Calming? Bombur munched on another pizza roll nervously._

_“You’ll get used to it as you get older,” Bifur assured._

_“Can I stay up with you?”_

_“Aye, for a bit.” Bifur got his cousin a cup of water._

_When they had finished their snack, an affectionate smile formed on Bifur’s face at the way Bombur sleepily rubbed his eyes. “Come on, sleepyhead. Let’s get you back to bed.”_

_Bombur shook his head. “Still storming.”_

_“What if I stayed with you until you fell asleep?”_

_Bombur bit his lip, but nodded. He held onto his beanie baby tightly and let Bifur pick him up from the chair. He buried his face in the thick black hair when he saw a lightning flash through a window._

_“It’s alright,” Bifur soothed, taking the child up the stairs and to his bedroom. He kissed the side of his head as Bombur refused to let go to be put down on the bed. Bifur sat on the edge and nuzzled the ginger hair with his nose._

_It took a good bit of soothing to get Bombur to let go and lay down. Bifur laid on his side and placed a comforting hand on Bombur’s head, gently massaging. Bombur sniffled and grabbed at a stuffed animal, and at Bifur’s shirt._

_Bifur started humming, slow and calming, and that seemed to do the trick. It didn’t take long for the boy to drift into sleep. “Don’t be scared, Bombur. I’m here…” he whispered, kissing his cousin’s forehead._

 ********

 Bombur still didn’t like storms. He wasn’t afraid of them anymore, but he still didn’t like them. They still kept him awake, through the loud noises and lightning flashes.

 He grumbled and put his pillow over his head to try to block it out. It didn’t work, and he turned over onto his back. He closed his eyes and tried to tune it out, though that had never worked either.

 A few minutes later, Bombur heard footsteps walk past his room, in the direction of the stairs. He thought about getting up to see who it was, but he was tired, despite his inability to sleep. But then, after another few minutes, he got a strange feeling when the person didn’t walk past again.

 With a sigh, Bombur got up, wrapped a short blanket around his shoulders, and went downstairs. He stopped at the sight of the open front door, though the screen door was closed. Through it, he saw a figure standing out in the dark on the porch. “Bifur?” Bombur asked, though more to himself. He tightened the blanket around himself and went out.

 Bombur stopped again when he stepped outside. Bifur was standing there, back to him, not underneath the porch covering and simply letting the rain fall on him, head tilted up to the sky. Bombur dropped the blanket on the dry bench and went out to snap his cousin out of whatever mood he was in.

 Bifur was drenched, though he didn’t seem to feel it. His eyes were closed, and his breathing even and calm. Bombur stood on the bottom step to comfortably wrap his arms around Bifur’s shoulders from behind. His cousin stumbled backwards with a little grunt, but Bombur kept his secure hold.

 “Hey, what’re you doing out here?” Bombur said into the older man’s ear loudly enough to be heard over the sky’s rumbling.

 Bifur turned to Bombur, his eyes clear, showing he was now mentally present. After a few seconds, he raised his hands to sign, _‘Calm.’_

 “Right,” Bombur sighed. “But we really should get back inside. You’re soaking wet.” He took Bifur’s hand to gently pull him up the steps.

 Bifur was cooperative until Bombur opened the door, and wrenched his hand from his grasp.

 “We can’t stay out here,” Bombur responded.

 Bifur took Bombur’s wrist and pulled him to the bench. _‘I stay?’_ He made a vague wave out past the porch steps and shook his head, then patted the arm of the bench and nodded.

 “You really want to sit out here?”

 Bifur nodded, running a hand through his wet hair. Then he signed, _‘Sorry.’_

 Bombur gave a little smile of assurance. He didn’t like the idea of sitting out here in the storm, but he wasn’t going to leave Bifur out here alone. “Then I’ll stay with you.”

 Bifur furrowed his brow, but didn’t protest his cousin staying out here with him. He sat on the bench, staring out into the lightning-lit darkness.

 Bombur sat next to him, wrapping his blanket over the colder and much wetter man. Bifur suddenly huddled into Bombur’s arms. Bombur repositioned them so that his legs were lengthways along the bench, with Bifur sitting between them and resting his head on the younger man’s stomach.

 “Not for long, okay?” Bombur said.

 Bifur grunted, nuzzling his cheek against the soft material of Bombur’s shirt. Bombur placed a hand on Bifur’s head, making circular motions with his fingers.

 They simply watched the storm together for a little while, a strange sense of peace falling over both of them.

 ********

  _‘Thank you,’_ Bifur signed to Bombur the next morning over breakfast. He added on his notebook, _‘You don’t like storms, but you stayed.’_

 “Stayed?” Peg asked, walking past to get a mug of coffee.

 “Last night,” Bombur said after Bifur nodded to him. “He went out to stand in the storm.”

 “You what?” Peg and Bofur asked in unison.

 Bifur shrugged and wrote, _‘Head hurting. Wanted to be outside. Storm helped make it calm.’_

 “You went out there by yourself?” Peg questioned.

 Bifur nodded. _‘But Bombur came out. I didn’t want to go back in, so he stayed out with me.’_

 “Wasn’t for too long,” Bombur assured.

 “You could’ve gotten sick, both of you,” Peg fretted.

 “They don’t have any signs of the sniffles or anything worse,” Brian spoke up. “Though, Bifur, maybe next time you feel like wandering out like that in the night, wake one of us?”

 Bifur sighed. _‘Don’t want to burden. Let you sleep.’_

 Peg let out a little breath, and bent over to kiss the top of her son’s head. Bifur patted her hand, then signed to Bombur, _‘It helped, you helped. Thank you.’_

 Bombur nodded with a smile in response. As long as it had helped Bifur get through the bad night, he wouldn’t hesitate to do it again. Besides, storms suddenly didn’t seem so bad anymore.


	17. Chapter 17

 “You keep trying to make that,” Bofur remarked when he saw the shape Bifur was carving. This was the fourth time, though thankfully he hadn’t spaced out and cut up his hands again, not with Bofur carving with him. “Why?”

 Bifur put his tools and the wood in his lap to write on his notepad, _‘In my head, can’t get it out. Maybe if I do this, it’ll help.’_   He noticed the grimace from his cousin. _‘Should’ve worded better.’_

 “I… suppose that’s fair enough,” Bofur said, looking down at his own in-progress carving of a dolphin. “But do you have to start over every time? You can’t finish the one you started before?”

 Bifur shrugged and signed, _‘Get stuck, stop, start over.’_   He picked up his tools and resumed making the axe.

 “Maybe you should try something else?” Bofur suggested. He sighed as Bifur didn’t respond and started bobbing his head in time with the instrumental music playing from the small speaker on the table.

 After a little while, Bofur got up to make a snack for them. He grabbed two apples, a small knife, and a plate, and brought them to the table. He had just started cutting one apple into slices when his cousin put down his piece of wood to grab the other. “Don’t even want it sliced with peanut butter on it?” he asked.

 Bifur raised a brow at him, then started cutting into the fruit with one of his carving tools. Bofur could only watch as the older man worked on making a general shape with it.

 Bombur came in, a book under his arm, and raised his eyebrows at the scene. “Think we’re about to see the fanciest apple.”

 Bofur chuckled. “Indeed.”

 It only took a few minutes for Bifur to carve the apple into a bird head. He set it on the table and asked via his notepad, _‘This something else good?’_

 “Aye, I’ll say so,” Bofur replied with a smile before going back to cutting up the apple he had. Bombur went to get another.

 Bifur wiped the juice off his hands and tools and put his feet up on Bofur’s chair, getting back to work on the wooden axehead.

 He didn’t finish it this time, but he did get closer than before.

 ********

 “Hello, Bifur,” Balin greeted as he opened the door. He gestured for him to come in and lead him to the living room. “What is it you wanted to talk to me about?”

 Bifur sat on the couch and flipped to a blank page of his notebook. _‘Worried about Bofur.’_

 “And you think I can help?” Balin sat next to the other man.

 Bifur nodded. He took a few breaths before he wrote, _‘He hasn’t said it recently, but I know he still blames himself for what happened. He tries to hide it, doesn’t want me to worry about him, but I know.’_

 Balin let out a sad-sounding breath. “I suspect he will for some time.”

  _‘What can I do?’_ Bifur signed, before he remembered Balin wouldn’t understand, and wrote it down.

 “Bifur-“

  _‘You were there. You know it wasn’t his fault. Why doesn’t he? He-’_

 Balin put his hand on Bifur’s writing one to stop him and make him listen. “All you can really do is tell him that you don’t blame him, which I know you have. From there… it’s up to him to fully understand all this.”

  _‘Can’t you say anything to him? Maybe he’ll listen to you?’_

 “I could, but in the end, he has to get through it. None of us can force it.”

 Bifur let out a little snort of frustration at the answer, though he did know it was the truth.

 Balin swallowed, and moved his hand from Bifur’s hand to forearm. His grip tightened noticeably. “When Dwalin came back from Afghanistan, and Vili… didn’t, he felt incredibly guilty about it. There was nothing he could do, and he knew it, but knowing it didn’t stop the guilt. He knew that Dis didn’t blame him, the boys didn’t, none of us did… but it took him a very long time to work through it.”

 Bifur stared down at his hands, not really seeing anything. _‘Do you think it’ll take Bofur as long as it did for Dwalin?’_

 “I don’t know. I hope Bofur can work through this more easily than Dwalin. But the situation is different.”

 Bifur nodded. ‘ _I’m alive.’_

 “And you took a blow that was meant for him,” Balin said pointedly.

  _‘I chose to.’_ Bifur accentuated the statement by tapping his chest. _‘I would do anything for him and Bombur. Take another axe to the head for either of them. Anything. He knows that.’_

 Balin’s lips formed into an understanding, but sad, smile. “He knows that, yes. It’s another thing to understand that in his heart.”

 Bifur slumped, deflated. He looked up at Balin’s hand on his knee.

 “You love him, you don’t blame him. Just assure him of that, though I know you have.” The older man’s expression suddenly became pointed. “You’ve got your own guilt and self-blame going on, as well.”

 Bifur’s hand tightened around his pen.

 “What is it that you have to blame yourself for?”

 Bifur bit his bottom lip. Balin would see this, had a habit of knowing things like this, peering through any attempts to hide.

 “You’ve been doing the best you possibly can to recover and get through this. From what Oin says, you’ve been doing much better than expected.”

 It took a long moment for Bifur to start writing. _‘Not good enough.’_

 Balin raised his brow. “Not good enough?”

  _‘They need… to hear me. Last thing I said was Bofur’s name. He needs to hear me say it again.’_

 “That is not something you should be beating yourself up over. Your survival and progress has been nothing short of a miracle. I know how frustrating this must be, to have something taken away from you like this. But focus on what you still have. And perhaps… in time, the things you lost will come back.”

  _‘If they don’t?’_

 “Then you accept it, and you stop blaming yourself for it. And don’t keep thinking you’re a burden on them.”

  _‘More from experience with Dwalin?’_

 “Exactly. Thorin, too, mostly.” Balin’s mouth twitched upwards. “He especially can be dour company if you let him sit there long enough.”

 A little chuckle lifted the corners of Bifur’s mouth at the joke.

 “My point is that Bofur doesn’t need to blame himself for what happened, and you don’t need to blame yourself for not fully recovering fast enough. In Bofur’s case, it will probably take a long time, no matter what any of us say.”

 Bifur nodded. If only it were easy to turn off the nagging feeling in his mind that he should be stronger. But… he did feel a little lighter, as though the feeling wasn’t so pervasive.

 Balin glanced at his watch. “Nearly time for Dori to come over for tea. Do you want to stay?”

 Bifur smiled and nodded. That smile broadened when Balin said, before he went to the kitchen, “I’ll set about learning sign language. Maybe we all should.”

 He asked the other man if he could help with making small sandwiches or anything, but Balin told him that he would handle it. Bifur took out his phone to occupy himself. At the knock on the door a few minutes later, Balin called out, “That’s him. Could you get it?”

 Bifur let out an affirming noise, putting his phone back in his pocket and picking uphis notebook before answering the door.

 “Thought we’d have…” Dori started before realizing who it was. “Oh, hello, Bifur. Pleasant surprise.”

  _‘Thought you’d have what?’_   Bifur scrawled, unable to hide his teasing grin. _‘Tea before or after s-‘_

 “Don’t you dare finish that,” Dori responded, keeping his voice low, as he came inside.

 Bifur’s grin widened. _‘Don’t recall us having tea at all.’_

 “You are the worst, you know that?” Dori added, “And that circumstance did not call for tea.”

 Bifur brought his hand to his chest and put on a wounded expression.

 “Absolute bastard, you are,” Dori replied, pushing past him. Though there was some affection in his tone. “And that is not what is going on here, at all. For your information, I was talking about a new flavour I found at the market.”

 Bifur shrugged and started writing.

 “If this wasn’t Balin’s house, I’d kick you out.”

 “Kick him out? But I’ve only just invited him to stay,” Balin remarked, coming into the living room to set a plate of sandwiches and scones on the coffee table.

 Bifur quickly hid his notebook behind his back to prevent Balin from even glimpsing anything he had written. Though when the older man turned his back, Bifur held up the notebook for Dori to see, _‘I’ll be nice… mostly.’_   He hid it again and laughed at his friend’s groan.

 ********

 Bifur looked up from his book at the knock on his open bedroom door. His mother stood there, straightening her pajama shirt with a solemn expression on her face. Bifur didn’t ask what it was, and patted the sheets next to him. She silently accepted the invitation, sitting on the bed cross-legged in front of her son.

 Bifur put his book aside and moved up until he was sitting up against the headboard. _‘Everything okay?’_   he signed. He leaned over to grab his notebook from the bedside table.

 Peg stared down at her hands for a short moment. Bifur put a hand on her arm, and she swallowed and looked back up, meeting his gaze. “Do you… do you know what I was afraid of, when Bofur and the doctor in Miami told me what had happened to you?”

_‘My death?’_

 “Other than that.” Peg bit her lip. “I was so afraid that… when you woke up from the coma… that you wouldn’t be you. That you wouldn’t be the man I raised and loved for thirty years.” She turned her head slightly to blink away the welling tears. “I was so afraid that you wouldn’t remember us, know me, would lose too much of yourself… that you’d be alive, but I-I would’ve still lost you.” She moved in close and raised her hands to Bifur’s face, fingers stroking down the bearded jawline. In Gaelic, she whispered, _“I still would’ve lost my beautiful son, and I…”_

 Bifur gently shook his head and laid his hands over Peg’s on his face. _‘Didn’t happen,’_ he signed after a moment, then quickly returned his hands to hers.

 “Aye… it didn’t,” Peg responded with a little sigh. “But sometimes, I can’t help but think what if.” Her eyes glanced up to the scar, the top partially hidden by Bifur’s hair hanging over his forehead.

 Bifur tilted his head in realization. He wrote, _‘Aunt Betsy, Dad, me. Would’ve lost us in different ways.’_

 “Yes.”

 Bifur brought his mother’s hand up to rest over the scar, then wrote, _‘This took my voice and some focus. But I’m still me.’_  He signed, _‘I’m still here.’_

 “Yes.” A relieved smile appeared on Peg’s face. “You are. You’re still the Bifur we know and love.”

 Bifur opened his arms, and let his mother fall into the embrace. He simply held her, and she closed her eyes and tightened her arms around his middle. Then, after a while, he tapped her shoulder to get her attention, and asked via his notebook, _‘Are you still angry with Thorin?’_

 Peg sighed. “The one I’m really angry at is the man who tried to kill Bofur and did this to you. But he’s locked up in Florida, and I don’t know what I’d do if I ever somehow met him. But with Thorin…”

 Bifur gestured for Peg to move away so he could nod in understanding, then sign, _‘Don’t want you upset with him. Not his fault.’_

 “Not fair to him, is it?” Peg responded.

 Bifur shook his head.

 “I know. It’s just that he’s the closest thing I can blame, aye? He doesn’t make it easy for himself. I think… part of me will always be somewhat upset with him. But I’ve forgiven him.”

 Bifur smiled. _‘Good.’_   His hands stayed still in the air for a few seconds. _‘We know he can be miserable enough on his own. Doesn’t need us adding to that.’_

 “I suppose not.”

 Bifur suddenly tilted his head, studying his mother’s hair. A little smile formed on his face.

 “What?” Peg asked.

 Bifur let out an amused snort. _‘I have more white than you.’_

 “What?”

 Bifur gestured to the streak in his hair.

 Peg raised her brow. “That’s hardly a competition you want to be involved in at your age.”

  _‘Might as well. I’m winning,’_ Bifur shrugged.

 They looked at each other for a few seconds. Peg couldn’t help the grin at the statement. A giggle escaped from them both. Then they broke, and their laughter sounded around them.


	18. Chapter 18

 Brian waved to Gloin before stepping up on the other man’s porch. Gloin greeted, “They practicing in your garage tonight?”

 “Aye, but you know I don’t mind it one bit.”

 “Anything in particular bring you over?” Gloin set down the magazine he had been reading.

 Brian’s smile faltered a bit. “Just need a friendly ear.”

 “Something serious?”

 “I suppose so. Things I need to talk about. Get them off my chest, you know?”

 Gloin patted the empty space on the bench beside him, but Brian sat on the wooden deck instead, bringing his knees halfway up and loosely wrapping his arms around them.

 Brian glanced down at his hands, instead of looking at his friend. “It’s… difficult being the one who has to hold it together for everyone else. Having to do it twice in two years… though I’ve been more successful this time. And it was really Bifur who took that role the first time.”

 “I can imagine…”

 “I hope imagining is all you’ll have to do.”

 “I thought things were going very well with Bifur’s recovery?”

 “No, no, everything is. That’s… that’s why I feel I can let go a bit now.”

 “Oh, I see. Well, go ahead, then. I’ll be your friendly ear, and shoulder to cry on if it comes to that.”

 Brian chuckled. “I hope it doesn’t.” He blew out a long breath. “When Thorin came around to personally tell us what happened when the boys came back from Miami, minus Bofur and Bifur, what I wanted to tell him took a backseat to having to stop Peg from doing anything more than shouting at him. And really, part of me wanted to let her hit him once, at least.” He let out a little snort. “Let me tell you, standing between that woman when she is that angry and shouting in Gaelic, and the person she’s angry at is a scary place to be.”

 “Thorin wouldn’t have stood a chance?”

 Brian shook his head. “At that moment, understandably so. But, I am grateful, and so is she, that he came to tell us like that.” He was quiet for a long moment, and could feel the start of tears welling in his eyes as he thought. “What happened… if Bifur hadn’t been fast enough… it would’ve been my son who we would’ve gotten the call about. It could’ve very easily been him. That alternative, what was probably down to split-seconds…”

 “That alternative didn’t happen.”

 “Aye, it didn’t.” Brian looked up to Gloin, wiping his eyes to prevent any tears from falling. “But it was either my son, or my nephew. Same for Peg, and it ended up being her son, instead of mine.”

 “Quite a sadistic choice.”

 “That’s a good word for it. It wasn’t one any of us were making, but thinking about it after… Impossible. Not that Peg would change what Bifur did. I don’t think even if he had died. Doing something like that… it’s part of who he is.” Brian paused to clear his throat. “He gets it from her, the protective instinct. Considering what she did to protect us, easy to see where it comes from.”

 “He’s always been like that?”

 Brian smiled and nodded. “Especially when it comes to his two cousins. When… soon after Bofur was born, and we brought him home from the hospital… One evening, Betsy went to check on Bofur in his crib, and he wasn’t there. We all ran around in a bit of panic, until I went to ask Bifur if he had seen him. I got to his room, to the most adorable sight.”

 “He had Bofur?” Gloin chuckled.

 “Aye. He was sitting on his bed, with Bofur lying beside him, humming and singing quietly to him, and playing with the babe’s hands. He’d forgotten to ask permission before taking him from the crib. Did the same when we brought Bombur home, too.”

 Gloin grinned at the story. “Strong bond from the very start.”

 “Indeed.” Brian glanced down to his hands, then looked out to the street. “The thing is, in a family as close as ours, lines can get blurred sometimes. Son, nephew, brother, cousin… Not that I ever tried to replace Bifur’s father, or Peg has tried to replace Betsy for them. But when this happened, it didn’t matter that Bifur was my nephew. It didn’t matter that it was nearly Peg’s nephew. Losing either of them… would’ve been devastating to all of us.”

 Gloin silently nodded and reached out to pat the other man’s shoulder.

 “I think the line is blurred most for Bofur. I’ve occasionally heard him refer to Bifur as his brother. And I suppose for all intents and purposes, he is everything an older brother should be.”

 Brian got lost in his thoughts for a couple minutes before saying, “One of the hardest things about what happened… not only having to watch and help Bifur recover, but to do that for Bofur as well. He still blames himself for it, and he’s going to have that image burned into his memory for a long time.” He sighed. “When Bofur volunteered to look after Bifur when he came home from the hospital, I was… proud of him, but also scared for him. He’d already been dealing with it first-hand longer than the rest of us. I was afraid that he wouldn’t get the time he needed to heal. It was hard, having to come home and see Bofur so drained and hurting still. Now I get that they needed to heal together, but…”

 Brian let out a shuddering breath. “I also had to console Bombur over the phone once we got the full details of what had happened from Balin. He was quiet, crying but still somehow staying in control. I knew he was doing that for me, to make it easier for me. So when he came when Bifur and Bofur came home from Miami, I told him to let go, that he didn’t have to keep it all in.” He wiped away leaking tears with the back of his hand. “And he did let it out. I had to do my best to be strong for them all, again.”

 “You know the rest of us are here.”

 Brian looked to Gloin, eyes still shining. “Aye, but I still had to. We couldn’t all break down in grief.” He wiped his eyes. “Which is why I waited this long to talk to someone like this. We’re in a safe place, things are going well, and I didn’t want to bring the rest of them down by talking to them.” A shudder went through his body.

 “You alright?”

 Brian shook his head to clear it. “Yeah, actually. Feeling better already,” he stated with a genuine smile.

 Gloin rose from the bench, and pulled Brian up to his feet. “Good. If you need to talk again, don’t hesitate.”

 “Maybe I should bring beer next time.”

 “I certainly wouldn’t object to that,” Gloin replied with a grin.

 Brian glanced to his house, then his watch. “They’ve got another hour before they have to stop.”

 “You could stay for that hour,” Gloin offered, holding the front door open.

 Brian smiled and went inside, and was greeted by a hug from Marnie.

 ********

 The peace of the beautiful early September afternoon broke with a sudden wordless shout from Bifur and a chunk of wood flying past Peg’s vision out to the grass of the backyard. Peg immediately sat up from the pillow she’d been laying on and put her book down on the deck.

 Bifur was sitting on the bench, breathing heavily and staring out to where he’d thrown the in-progress carving, a piece of sandpaper in hand. Peg’s gaze quickly went down to check if he’d cut his hand, and let out a little breath of relief at not seeing a drop of blood. She gently said his name to break him out of staring.

 For a long moment, the only sound other than Bifur’s breathing was of the ipod speaker playing instrumental music, a common thing when Bifur carved.

 Peg said her son’s name again. Bifur blinked and immediately signed, _‘Sorry. Not sure what…’_

 “You’re okay?”

 Bifur didn’t answer, instead dropping the sandpaper to the bench and walking down the patio steps and into the yard to find the piece of wood. Peg stood and leaned against the support beam. Bifur found the object a few seconds after and breathed deeply as he picked it up. In his hand was a carved axehead and part of the handle.

  _‘Must’ve been shocked …’_   He stared down at it for a long moment. Then he brought it up to his forehead, touching the blade side to the scar. He froze, and Peg sucked in a breath, not sure if she should go out to him or not.

 Bifur came back to his senses only a few seconds later, nodding to himself. _‘Right size,’_   he signed as explanation as he returned to the patio.

 “So does that mean it’s finished?”

 Bifur stared down as he turned the piece over in his hands a few times. He turned to his mother and shook his head.

 “Looks pretty finished to me.”

  _‘Needs painting, maybe rest of handle.’_

 Peg bit her lip. “Do you have to keep going with it? Carving the part that… isn’t enough?”

 Bifur carefully placed the axe on the bench. _‘Not finished. It needs to be.’_

 “Sorry. It’s just that… I don’t ever want to see anything axe-shaped again, and here you are carving the damn thing. I know it must be helping, but-” Peg stopped when Bifur picked up his notebook and started writing.

 Once done with his thought, Bifur held the notebook up for his mother to read. _‘Physically making it is like working through my emotions about it, understanding and accepting it.’_   He added, _‘Something like that.’_

 Peg slightly nodded with an assuring smile. “I know.”

_‘I won’t show you when I’m done, if you don’t want to see it,’_   Bifur wrote.

 “No… I probably should have a look. Might help me accept, too.” As Bifur smiled and stretched his arms over his head, Peg asked, “You going to make the handle or paint it now?”

 Bifur went through the bag of wood pieces. Once he picked one, he sat on the bench and signed, _‘Should do something else. Don’t want to overload my mind.’_

 “Aye…” Peg softly agreed. She stood there for a few minutes and watched as her son got lost in starting a new piece. Once satisfied that Bifur was okay, she laid back down on her blanket and pillow and picked up her book.


	19. Chapter 19

 Bifur carefully lined up the two painted wooden parts of the axe, and pressed them together, a bit of glue oozing out of one side between the handle and the head. He wiped the axe across his pant leg to get rid of it.

 Brian glanced up from his laptop from the living room to the dining table, and a little smile formed at what he saw. “Just about finished it, then?” At Bifur’s focused nod, a swell of emotions tightened Brian’s chest for a second as he got a better look at exactly what it was in his nephew’s hands. A wooden replica of the thing that would have killed Bofur if he hadn’t stepped in to take the blow. A replica of the thing that had nearly taken one of them from his family.

 After a couple minutes when the glue dried, Bifur set the axe down and simply stared at it. Brian put his laptop down and got up, stretching his arms as he walked over to the other man. “You alright?”

 Bifur shrugged and turned down the volume of his ipod, but didn’t move his eyes from the object.

 Brian’s eyes were also transfixed on the axe. He couldn’t judge the accuracy of the replication for himself, but the weapon had been burned into Bofur’s mind, and he had claimed it was accurate the last time he had seen it in-progress. It wasn’t particularly large, more a utility-size, but certainly enough to slice skin, split bone, and kill in its original metal material.

 Brian gently laid a hand on Bifur’s shoulder. Bifur patted it in response, then picked up the axe. He turned it over in his hands a few times, as though studying every inch of it.

 Bifur closed his eyes, and pressed the blade of the axe to his scarred forehead. Brian stopped himself from calling out the other man’s name or grabbing the axe from his hand. He shook his head and breathed deeply. If seeing Bifur do this was disturbing, he couldn’t imagine actually witnessing the attack.

 A violet shiver ran through Bifur’s body, and Brian felt it under his hand. He was about to say the other’s name to jolt him out of this, but Bifur came back to his senses on his own, and put the axe down.

 “How are you feeling?”

 Bifur picked up the pen and pulled the notepad closer to him. _‘Don’t know. Strange.’_

 Brian rubbed his hand across his nephew’s shoulders. “You didn’t think it would instantly make you feel better, did you?”

 Bifur shrugged. _‘Maybe a little?’_   He closed his eyes for a moment, a sense of relief finally washing over him. _‘There it is.’_

 “I think you’re still being too hard on yourself.”

 Bifur turned to face his uncle. He signed, _‘I know I am. Can’t help it, even though I know nothing will instantly make me completely better.’_

 “Just remember it’s a process, aye?”

 Bifur nodded, picked up the axe, and went to the living room to sit on the floor. He leaned back against the couch seat cushions with his head tilted back. Brian followed him, and sat on the couch, resuming surfing the internet on his laptop.

 

 Peg came back from her evening outing with Dis and Marnie, and stopped as she was taking off her shoes.

 “He’s fine,” Brian assured.

 For the first time since sitting down, Bifur moved, raising his head and smiling up at his mother.

 “You… you finished it?” Peg asked, looking to the wooden axe in front of her son. She had to look away from it and him.

 Bifur swiftly got to his feet and tossed his ipod onto the sofa next to Brian. He took one of Peg’s hands in his and raised it to press against his cheek. Her gaze came up to his face and reassuring little smile. He let go of her hand and signed, _‘I’m fine.’_

 Peg glanced between the axe and Bifur. “Did it help?”

 Bifur nodded. He added, _‘I’m not afraid of it.’_

 Peg cleared her throat. “Good… that’s good.”

 Bifur picked it up, and held it up to Peg. She didn’t take it, but she did manage to keep her eyes on it this time. She commented, “Still astounds me that you know what it looked like.”

 Bifur put it in her hands so he could sign, _‘I don’t want you to be afraid of it.’_

 “I’m not… okay, I am. But…” Peg let out a frustrated breath and glanced down at the axe. “I mean… I don’t know…”

  _‘I understand. You understand why I made it?’_

 “Aye…” Peg couldn’t help the saddened smile. “As long as it helps you, that’s what matters.”

 Bifur took the axe back and let it hang at his side. His other hand went around the back of Peg’s head to bring her in close. He kissed her forehead, then pressed his against hers.

 ********

 Bofur reached out to the coffee table in Nori’s apartment as his phone buzzed with a text. Nori, lying on top of him, smacked his hand away from it. At the end of the current scene of the movie, Nori paused it and said, “Okay, now you can check it.”

 Bofur chuckled as Nori got up to put away the popcorn bowl. Then he stretched one arm over his head and checked his phone. ‘He finished the axe,’ read the message from his father. Bofur quickly responded, ‘He okay?’

 As Nori came back from the bathroom, Bofur said, “Bifur finished the axe.”

 “That’s good, right?”

 “Think so, aye. He’s certainly spent long enough thinking about the damn thing.” When Bofur’s phone vibrated again, he read out, “He’s quiet and tired, but okay.” He bit his lip.

 “You’re still worried about him, even though your dad just said he’s fine.”

 Bofur texted back, ‘Thanks,’ before putting his phone back on the table, and inviting Nori to lay on him again. Brian had said Bifur was fine, so there wasn’t any reason for him to think otherwise. This was his weekend with Nori, and he was determined to not worry about other things too much. The prospect of seeing the finished wooden axe did bring some dread, but he pushed it down and grinned. “Finish the movie.”

 Nori resettled with his head on Bofur’s chest, and he resumed playing Star Trek.

 When it ended, they let the credits play, and Nori started kissing his boyfriend. Bofur laughed into his mouth and said, “That why you wanted to lay on me for the whole movie?”

 “Certainly has its perks.”

 Bofur suddenly kicked off the back cushion of the sofa and flipped them over off and down to the floor. Nori swore as his elbow hit the edge of the coffee table on the way down, but any irritation went away at Bofur hovering on top of him, smiling and laughing, with his long hair tickling Nori’s face. “Bastard,” Nori still said, his face cracking into a smile.

 “Going to have to work harder than that to keep me down.”

 “You’re staying the weekend. I’ll keep you down at some point.” Nori kicked at the leg of the table to give them a little more space. “But this is a position I don’t mind being in.”

 “Don’t want to get back on the couch, or go to your bed?”

 Nori grabbed the front of Bofur’s shirt. “You put us down here, so here’s good.” He yanked him down for a hard kiss.

 When they pulled apart to breathe, Bofur grabbed the remote and turned off the dvd player. Nori raised his eyebrows, and Bofur replied, “As awesome as the music is, it’s not particularly sexy.”

 “It distracted you that much?”

 Bofur descended on the other man, nipping at his nose before kissing again.


	20. Chapter 20

  _Bofur climbed up onto the bench beside Bifur, content to listen to him play the piano for a few moments. Then the three-year-old tapped his cousin’s arm and asked, “Can I play?”_

_Bifur stopped playing and thought for a short moment. Then he took the boy’s hand and placed his finger on one key. Then he took the other hand and put that index finger on another key. “Okay, Bofur, when I say ‘one,’ you push this one. When I say ‘two,’ you push this one. Got it?”_

_Bofur eagerly nodded._

_Bifur started playing a different song than before, something simpler. At the appropriate parts, he cued Bofur. Bofur got the numbers mixed up a couple times, but overall did pretty well. Even Bombur, in his playchair, seemed to be moving along with the music, despite the mistakes._

_“I did good?” Bofur asked when the song finished._

_“Aye, very good.”_

_“Again?”_

_Bifur replaced Bofur’s fingers on the keys, and they repeated the song. This time after finishing, Bofur pushed off the bench and rushed to the nearest adult. “Uncle Cath! We make pretty music!”_

_“That you did, lad.”_

_Bifur smiled at his father before calling Bofur back over. “Want to try another song?”_

 ********

 Bifur took out a book from his bag as he sat on the bench in front of the mall bookstore, waiting for Dori , who was still inside. While he read, he absentmindedly stroked the carved fang that hung from his neck on a braided leather cord. He had converted it from hairtie to necklace yesterday. He didn’t plan on letting his hair grow long enough to use it again, which had made his mother sigh when she trimmed his hair the day before.

 Bifur ignored the passing mall-goers walking by the bench, engrossed in the book. He got a chapter in when he heard a girl say, “Wait, Jake, I think that’s Mr Bifur.”

 Bifur looked up as a teen boy replied, “No it’s not. He has long hair and-“ Bifur lost track of them as a throng of people got between them. When that passed, Bifur found himself face-to-face with a ten-year-old girl, and a fifteen-year-old boy rushing to catch up to her. He grabbed his necklace. He felt oddly trapped. Having to quit his job had been bad enough, but this might be worse. He quickly rearranged his expression to not look like a deer in the headlights.

 “Mr Bifur?” she asked.

 “Merida!” Jake called out as he reached them. He looked to Bifur and his eyebrows rose. “It is you.”

 Bifur nodded once and his mouth formed into a watery smile.

 “You… look so different,” Jake commented. Both of the siblings’ eyes flickered up to the scar on his forehead and the white streak of hair for a short moment.

 “Mom said you got hurt and couldn’t teach anymore,” Merida said.

 Bifur nodded. He gave a more firm smile at two of his former students and put the book down on his lap.

 “We’ve missed you. The new piano teacher isn’t as good as you,” Merida stated.

 “Are you okay?” Jake asked. “I mean, it must’ve been really bad to make you have to stop teaching.”

 Bifur pulled his notepad and pen from his back pocket. He thought for a moment, then wrote, _‘It’s good to see you,’_ and held it up for them to see. They were about to respond when Dori came from the bookstore and started to ask if Bifur was ready to go.

 Bifur looked up to his friend and signed, _‘Students.’_

 “Oh, I see.”

 “You can’t talk anymore?” Merida asked after glancing from the notepad to the man’s hands.

 Bifur shook his head.

 “Well, that’s okay. You can still teach by writing at us, right?” Jake responded.

 Bifur bit his lip and stared off to the side for a moment. Then he let out a breath and signed for Dori to translate for him.

 Dori nodded and moved to behind the siblings for a better view. “I’m still learning, so don’t be too hard on me.”

 Bifur flashed Dori a little smile before starting to sign. _‘It’s not only losing ability to speak. What happened… hurt my mind.’_ He gestured to his scar. _‘I’m not the same, not fit to teach.’_

 Merida waited for Dori finish translating, and said, “You seem okay to me.”

  _‘Today is a good day. Not every day is.’_   Bifur took the girl’s hands for a second. _‘Believe me, if I could go back, I would. I wish I didn’t have to stop.’_

 “What happened?” Jake asked. He quickly added, “If you want to say.”

 Bifur thought before answering, _‘I saved my cousin’s life.’_   He sensed the next question. _‘I don’t know if or when I can go back.’_

 Jake pulled his phone from his pocket and said, “Shoot, its dad. Have to meet him at the food court now.” He put the phone away and said, “It’s good to see you again, Mr Bifur.”

 Bifur nodded, then froze at the sudden way that Merida hugged him. Dori stepped forward to intervene, but Bifur came to his senses enough to pat her back.

 “I hope you keep getting better,” the girl said when she pulled away.

 Bifur smiled and nodded. They waved their goodbyes, then the siblings hurried away. Bifur stared after them for a long moment, even after they had disappeared into the crowd.

 “You alright?” Dori sat next to his friend.

 Bifur let out a long breath through his nose and started stroking his thumb over his necklace. He shrugged and wrote, _‘Miss it.’_

 “I’m sure.”

  _‘Been able to push it out of mind. But seeing them…’_

 “Yeah, can’t be easy to be reminded.”

 Bifur laid his head on the other man’s shoulder and pointed to Dori’s bag, wanting to focus on something else.

 Dori took the cue to pull out the books and show Bifur. “Supernatural mystery, sounds good… Ori asked me to get him the next Artemis Fowl book…”

 ********

 Bifur’s fingers glided across the piano keys, playing a melancholy-sounding song. He closed his eyes and simply let it happen.

 While it had been nice to see two of his former students again, he almost wished he hadn’t. It was a reminder of something he had lost. Teaching was part of who he was, starting with his toddler cousin. He thought he had made peace with it when he had told the community center he had to leave months ago, and there had been other things to worry about more then. But now… the idea of never being able to do it again, in the same capacity, gnawed at him. He wasn’t fit to, and his students deserved better than what he could offer them now. It was as simple as that.

 Bifur sighed and took his hands from the keys. He stared at the black-and-white of them, not really sure what he was thinking about now.

 A few minutes later, Bifur flinched at the familiar arms coming around his shoulder. Bofur gently inquired, “Want to talk about it?”

 Dori had told the rest of them what had happened when they came home from the mall, and Bifur was thankful they hadn’t pushed him to give more detail. His mood was probably enough to determine how he felt.

 Bifur shook his head. Bofur was content with the response, but didn’t move. After a moment, Bifur leaned forward slightly to write on his notebook against the music stand, _‘You were my best.’_  

 Bofur chuckled. “Come off it. You’re just saying that because you love me.”

  _‘I’m serious. I’m so proud of you.’_   Bifur bit his lip. _‘And your curiosity made me learn this about myself.’_

 “I don’t think it was curiosity as much as always wanting to be just like you when I grew up.”  

 Bifur chuckled and affectionately bumped the side of his head to Bofur’s cheek. _‘Whatever it was, thank you.’_

 Bofur kissed his cousin’s temple and asked, “Will you be okay with this?”

 Bifur grabbed Bofur’s wrists crossed over his chest. Then he requested, _‘Play with me?’_

 “Of course,” Bofur beamed. He settled on the bench next to Bifur, and their hands laid on the piano keys.


	21. Chapter 21

 Bifur took off his light jacket and folded it over his arm as he and Dwalin entered the bar. While Bifur found a booth seat, Dwalin went to order drinks for them. Once he found a nice spot, he tossed his jacket in and sat, taking out his notepad and pen from his back pocket and placing it on the table.

 Dwalin came back a minute later, and placed two glasses of beer on the table.

 A thought occurred to Bifur as he watched the way the other man’s hands moved, and he tilted his head.

 “I doubt there’s anything that particularly interesting about me,” Dwalin remarked when he sat and took off his jacket.

 Bifur considered not even asking what was on his mind, but he bit his lip and signed, _‘Your arm, the one that was injured.’_

 Dwalin raised his eyebrows. “Not so fast, I’m still learning.”

 Bifur gave an apologetic smile and repeated the statement, slower this time.

 “Yes… what about it?”

 Bifur switched to the notepad. _‘How is it? Does it still hurt or anything?’_   He took a sip from his beer.

 “Not… not really, no. I mean, it does twinge every now and then, but nothing painful or that stops me from doing anything.” Dwalin took a swig of his drink. “Took a lot of physical therapy to get it there, but mostly I forget it was ever even injured.”

 Bifur held up his hands and gestured for the other man to press his against them. Once the larger tattooed hands pressed against his palms-to-palms, Bifur pushed on them and nodded, wanting Dwalin to do the same.

 “Okay…” Dwalin pushed back against Bifur’s resistance.

 Then Bifur curled his fingers between Dwalin’s and squeezed. Dwalin went along and squeezed back. Bifur nodded once, encouraging him to do so harder. Dwalin did, releasing when Bifur straightened his fingers out. He shook his hands a little, but the little smile communicated that he was fine.

  _‘No difference,’_   Bifur signed.

 “What was that about?”

 Bifur shrugged. _‘Curious,’_   he wrote.

 Dwalin gave an understanding grin and took a long swig. Then the conversation turned to everyday talk and Bifur teaching some sign language.

 After a little while, Dwalin’s attention went behind Bifur to a nearby table of a few college-aged men. Bifur tapped the table in front of Dwalin and signed, _‘Don’t pay them any mind.’_

 Dwalin leaned in to whisper, “They’re saying things about you.”

 Bifur already knew that, having heard their quiet comments to each other between their tipsy bursts of laughter for the past few minutes. He couldn’t see them, but also got the feeling they were physically mocking him. _‘I know.’_

 “I should-“

 Bifur put his hand over Dwalin’s and shook his head. Instead of outright telling him to leave the situation be, he gestured to their nearly-empty glasses and signed, _‘Second round on me. I’ll get it.’_

 “Alright. I’ll have the same, then.”

 Bifur wrote the names of their drinks on his notepad and went to the bar, stepping closer and past the table of young men on his way. He heard one ask, “Wonder if he sounds stupid like all the other deaf people. You know like…” the guy trailed off into unflattering vocal tones, not unlike the ones Bifur had made for the first few weeks after awakening from the coma and getting used to not being able to speak.

 Bifur didn’t let on that he had heard them at all. Let them think he was deaf. He hadn’t heard anything about his scar, so they must not have actually gotten a good look at him yet. Whatever they said, he would keep ignoring them.

 Once at the bar, Bifur showed the bartender his notepad, then put it in his pocket and waited. He glanced across the room and could see the comments were starting to get to Dwalin. He got his friend’s attention and shook his head.

 Bifur took the new glasses and went back to the booth. Dwalin finished his first one and took the new one from him. He leaned in and reported, “They also think you’re a flaming homo, we both are.”

 Bifur silently chuckled. He wrote, _‘I’d hardly call myself that. What tipped them off for me? The v-neck?’_

 “Partly. The hand-holding thing didn’t help.”

  _‘Joke’s on them. I appreciate women, too.’_  Bifur grinned as he took a sip. _‘Sorry for getting you into this.’_

 Dwalin shrugged. “As long as I don’t walk in on you having bisexual threeways, we’re good.”

 Bifur raised his eyebrows.

 “My brother,” Dwalin clarified. “Multiple times.”

 Bifur laughed into his hand and wrote, _‘He was cute back in the Erebor days.’_

 Dwalin groaned. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

 Bifur teasingly grinned before changing the topic. A couple minutes later, he suddenly stopped mid-sign as another comment from the other table reached his ears.

 Dwalin touched the other man’s forearm in concern. “You alright?”

 Bifur brought his thumb up to his mouth and between his teeth at a thought. Really, he shouldn’t be considering this idea after his last altercation at a bar, but he was curious. He jotted on the notepad, _‘Go to the bathroom for a couple minutes.’_

 “Excuse me?”

  _‘I want to see something.’_

 Dwalin glanced from Bifur to the young men and back again. He leaned in close. “If you think I’m going to give them a chance to try anything to you-“

 Bifur responded with a pointed expression. _‘They think I’m deaf, but I don’t think they’ll try anything drastic.’_

 Dwalin considered arguing against the idea, but closed his mouth. After long breath through his nose, he stated, “I damn well better not have to tell Peg anything bad happened to you.” Then he got up and made for the bathroom, stopping to tell the bartender something, probably to keep an eye on Bifur.

 Bifur doodled on his notepad and took another sip from his glass. As he expected, it didn’t take long for something to happen, now that Dwalin was gone. He heard a couple of the men at the other table get up and approach. He didn’t turn to look at them, just continuing to draw. At the stifled laughter and whisper of “just a little scare,” Bifur knew what to expect.

 When Bifur sensed the moment was right, he dropped his pen, shot up from his seat, turned, and grabbed the outstretched arm about to push him. He spun the guy around, locking the wrist behind his back, and pressed him face-down to the table. Nowhere near hard enough to hurt, but enough to shock him.

 The second guy grabbed the back of Bifur’s shirt. Bifur kept his hold on the first one’s wrist to keep him down, and swept out his leg behind the second one’s knee. He elbowed his shoulder at the same time, causing him to fall backwards. Bifur grabbed the man’s wrist, and stopped his fall before he could hit his head on the floor.

 Dwalin rushed forward and pushed one of the men still at the table back down into his seat. “Wouldn’t continue messing with him, lad.”

 The man on the floor didn’t move when Bifur let go of his hand. The one still pinned to the table said, “Guys, a little help?” Bifur lifted him up and spun him away into his friend.

 The two who had tried to scare Bifur and their friends all stared at him. One of them commented, “He would be a deaf ninja.”

 Dwalin came to Bifur’s side. “You alright?” At the younger man’s nod, he turned to the group. “By the way, he’s not deaf.”

 The bartender came over and demanded, “Pay your tab, and get out.”

 “What? But he-“ one started.

 “Not unprovoked, from what I saw. He didn’t even hurt you. Now pay up and leave.”

 The young men grumbled, but paid and got up to head for the door. One remarked, “Can’t believe you got owned by him, and not his big boyfriend.” With the spectacle over, the other bar patrons turned back to their own business.

 As the door closed behind them, Dwalin put his arm around Bifur and said, “There has to be a less risky way of testing your reflexes.” Then he noticed the way Bifur was staring at the door. “Hey, come on,” Dwalin shifted to hug Bifur around the shoulders from behind.

 Bifur snapped out of it after a few seconds, and turned to Dwalin with a reassuring smile. _‘I’m fine.’_

 “Oh, good. Nearly made me think we had just made a terrible decision.”

 Bifur slipped from his friend’s arms and settled back into his seat. He took a long drink of his beer and started another conversation.

 ********

 “Have fun?” Brian asked when Bifur and Dwalin walked in the house.

 Bifur nodded. But Peg wasn’t satisfied with that, and asked, “Something happen?”

 Dwalin glanced to Bifur, who shrugged before turning to hang up his jacket. Dwalin replied to Peg’s question. “Just a few assholes, but nothing serious. I don’t think they particularly spoiled our evening.”

 “What did they do?”

  _‘Said some things and mocked me amongst themselves. Thought I was deaf and stupid.’_

 “I ought to put them in their place. Too bad I wasn’t there,” Peg responded.

 “Bifur already did that. Took them by surprise, actually.”

 Bifur made an exasperated expression at Dwalin behind his mother’s back, then put on a smile when she turned to him. Dwalin sheepishly shrugged in apology.

 “What does he mean by that?” Peg asked.

 Dwalin answered, “A couple of them got up to try to scare him and push him around. Before they could touch him, he had one pinned to the table and the other on the floor.”

 Peg took her son’s hands and started looking him over. Bifur sighed and tried to gesture that he was perfectly fine. But that didn’t stop her until she was satisfied.

 Dwalin excused himself. Bifur followed him out the door and wrote on his notepad, _‘You do realize I was trying to not make her worry?’_   Though he did smile a little to show he wasn’t genuinely upset.

 “Yeah… sorry about that. It was badass though.”

 Bifur chuckled. _‘Next week?’_

 “Sure. As long as we don’t turn it into a way to test yourself like that again.”

 Bifur nodded, and waved Dwalin off.


	22. Chapter 22

 Bifur opened his eyes at the usual knock on his half-open bedroom door in the morning, and somehow, he knew it would be a bad day. He grunted, and turned over, pulling his blanket up over him head and blowing out a frustrated breath. Childish, he knew, but he felt the need to shield himself from the world like this.

 The knock came again a few minutes later, softer this time. Peg’s voice called through the door, “You alright in there?”

 Bifur didn’t make any movement or any sounds to call back to her. He didn’t react when she told him she was coming in. He sensed her coming around to the side of the bed he was facing, and kneel down. “Ah, one of those days?”

 Bifur pulled the blanket down just enough to uncover his eyes. He gave a tiny nod.

 “I’ll let Bofur know, then.” Peg glanced to the bedside table. “You want your music?” At another small nod from her son, she picked up the ipod, unraveled the earphones, and turned it on.

 Bifur reached an arm out from under the blanket to put one earphone in. Then he gestured for Peg to give him the ipod. He flicked through until he found the instrumental album that seemed to best fit what he needed. Once he found it and put the device under the blanket, Peg leaned forward to kiss his forehead.

 “ _I love you. Rest well_ ,” Peg said in Gaelic.

 Bifur gave a half-smile. When she stood and left, closing his door halfway, he pulled the blanket up over his head again. He closed his eyes and turned his attention to the music in his ear.

 

 Bofur let out a sigh as he again reminded Bifur to calm down a bit with the carving knife in his hands.

  _‘Sorry,’_   Bifur signed. He focused to slow his strokes, which seemed almost angry.

 “It’s just that I really don’t want to see your blood again.”

 Bifur put his chunk of wood and knife on the table to wipe at his eyes with his forearm.

 “You want to talk about whatever’s bothering you?”

 Bifur shrugged. He’d been acting… off all day, since he had woken up and covered his head with the blanket. He hated when this happened. It made him feel like he was regressing instead of progressing.

 “Those assholes at the bar get to you?”

  _‘That was a couple days ago,’_   Bifur responded.

 “Still could be a reason. Like, you didn’t think they got to you, but they did, and it just took a little while to.”

 Bifur snorted, and picked up his things again. Maybe that was part of it, but knowing that didn’t make him feel any better.

 A few minutes later, the sound of two cars pulling into the driveway reached their ears. Bifur immediately put his carving and tools down, and went to the front door. Bofur followed.

 Bifur went past Brian and Peg coming in with groceries, without any greeting. Both stopped and watched as he pulled on his shoes and strode outside. Bofur could only let out a little groan as Bifur started circling around Brian’s car and kicking at the tires.

 “What’s this about?” Peg quickly asked her nephew. This was new behavior from her son.

 “I don’t know.” Bofur ran a hand through his hair. “He’s been acting… cagey all day. I offered to take him out somewhere, but he didn’t want to. I don’t know if he’s angry or sad or what.”

 “Hasn’t said anything to you about his mood?” Brian asked.

 “Not really.”

 “Must be serious, if he’s resorted to kicking my car.”

 Peg gave the bags in her hands to Bofur. “I’ll keep an eye on him while you two put everything away.” When she turned her attention back to her son, she crossed her arms and bit her bottom lip. She wanted to go to him, ask him what was wrong, what he needed, but she knew he needed to work through whatever it was.

 Bofur closed the pantry door and checked his vibrating phone. It was a text from Ori, asking _‘Is Bifur okay? He’s kicking a car.’_   Bofur replied, _‘He’s really upset about something. Don’t know what.’_   To his father, Bofur said, “Ori’s keeping an eye on him, too.”

 Peg let out a relieved breath when Bifur stopped kicking the tires of Brian’s car and came back up the porch. He didn’t say anything, no greeting or explanation, or even acknowledge her presence as he strode back inside the house. Peg let a long breath out through her nose, closed the front door, and went to the kitchen. She opened the fridge and turned to grab a couple of groceries from the couter. She heard the fridge door slam shut behind her, and spun to see Bifur turning to walk back to the living room. “Feeling any better?” she asked.

 Bifur stopped in his tracks, only a few steps away from Peg. One hand closed into a tight fist.

 “Bifur, you alright?” Brian prompted.

 Without warning, Bifur spun back around, let out an angered shout, and drove his fist into the closed door of the fridge. The fridge that Peg was standing in front of.

 Everyone froze. Bifur’s eyes flew wide, though not from the pain that shot up his arm at the impact. His fist was only a few inches to the right of his mother’s head. The expression on her face… fear at what had nearly happened… Bifur dropped his fist and stepped back, staring at her for a short moment. Then he turned and ran.

 Bofur, Peg, and Brian heard the front door open before any of them got over the shock enough to move. Bofur hurried to the door, called after his fleeing cousin, and pulled on his shoes. With a few seconds, he was out the door. But Bifur was already gone from view.

 “Shit… Bifur!” Bofur called out. “Come back!” At the lack of any answer or sight of the other man, he headed off for the first place he could think of.

 Bofur came to a stop near the playground at the park. He asked the nearest person, a young girl, “Did a man come by here? Black hair with a white streak? He would’ve seemed upset.” At the girl’s nod and point to the nearby forest, he nodded and thanked her, then ran off in the direction of the tree line.

 “Bifur!” Bofur called out. He made it a good way into the forest before he decided to try looking up as well as through the trees. “Bifur, come on!” He let out a frustrated grunt and spun around, looking up into the branches. A couple minutes later, he caught sight of his cousin sitting on a branch midway up a tree, with his back against the trunk.

 Bofur bent over with his hands on his thighs to catch his breath. “Quite a chase you led me on,” he called up. He glanced around. “How did you even get up there so fast?” At the lack of any kind of answer, he straightened.

After a moment of Bofur watching Bifur sulking with his hands over his face, he made for a  nearby tree, hoping this was the same path Bifur had gone up to his perch. He had just gotten his hands up to reach for it when something hit him on the side of his arm. Bofur glanced down, spotted a pinecone by his foot, then looked up to his cousin. Bifur was looking back at him, but with a strange expression. Bofur raised his eyebrows at him, then reached up for the branch again. Another pinecone hit him in the side of the head.

 Bofur lowered his hands to his side, hoping to appear non-threatening. “Fine, I won’t join you.”  

 Satisfied with that response, Bifur turned his head to stare straight ahead, his hands flexing in and out of fists.

 Bofur heavily sat down on the ground and took out his phone. His dad immediately answered the call. Bofur could hear his aunt’s frantic Gaelic in the background. “Hey, I found him.”

 “Oh, thank goodness. Where are you?”

 “Forest near the park.” Bofur glanced up to his cousin. “He’s up a tree, and I don’t think he wants to come down anytime soon. He chucked a couple pinecones at me when I tried to go to him.”

 “Just let him sit there, then,” Brian advised. “We’re on our way.”

 “I can do that,” Bofur said. Brian hung up, and Bofur stretched his arms over his head. He called up to Bifur, “How many pinecones do you have left up there?” He didn’t expect an answer, but still sighed at the lack of one. “No one is mad at you,” he tried. “We know you didn’t mean to try to hurt anyone.”

 Bifur folded his arms and clenched his jaw firmly shut. 

 Bofur grabbed a handful of dry orange leaves off the ground and crunched them in his hand. More quietly, he said, “We all have bad days.” He opened his hand and watched the small crumbled leaf pieces blow off in the breeze. Then he laid back on the ground and stared up at the sky through the spaces in the foliage.

 A little while later, Bofur sat up at the sound of Brian calling out for him. “Over here!” he yelled back. It only took his father and aunt a minute more to find him. When they arrived, he simply pointed up to Bifur. “He still looks pretty comfortable up there.”  

 Bifur didn’t even look down at his mother’s and uncle’s arrival, or give any outward sign that he acknowledged it.

 “You can’t stay up there all night,” Brian called up, stepping forward to the tree. He apparently got too close and had to duck a pinecone.

 “I guess that means he knows you’re here,” Bofur sighed. He noticed, once Peg spoke up to him in Gaelic, the way Bifur tilted his head before hiding his face in his hands.

  _“I’m not angry with you. You didn’t hurt me. I know you didn’t mean to try,”_ Peg said.

 Bifur shook his head.

 Peg said in English, “Please, come down so we can really talk?”

 Bifur was completely still for a long moment. Then he suddenly keeled to the side. Bofur, Brian, and Peg called out in alarm, but Bifur grabbed onto the branch before he could completely fall off. He swung down to one below, and worked his way to the ground.

 “Come home with us?” Peg requested.

 Bifur shook his head, and turned away from them. His hands curled into fists, and he stopped walking a few yards away. He considered the nearest tree, then launched himself at it.

 Bofur reacted the fastest, getting to his cousin before he could start punching the tree. He grabbed him from the back, throwing his arms around his neck to yank him away. He had to jump up and hook his ankles around Bifur’s middle to have any real effect.

 They fell to the ground together, Bifur on his back on top of Bofur. But Bofur didn’t let go. He refused to let Bifur hurt himself in his anger and guilt and whatever else he was feeling.

 Bifur growled and tried to pull Bofur’s hands apart from around him. When that didn’t work, he went for Bofur’s legs. He managed to get enough space to turn over onto his front, and sit on the younger man’s thighs. In this better position, he was able to break out of Bofur’s hold. He pushed himself up on extended arms, hands on either side of Bofur’s head, and stared down at his cousin, with his teeth bared and nostrils flared.

 Bofur was not afraid of Bifur hurting him, and didn’t let any fear show on his face. He didn’t say anything to snap him out of it, and waved his hand behind his cousin’s back to signal Brian and Peg to not step in.  

 After a long tense moment, Bifur suddenly broke down. His arms collapsed and he dropped, burying his face into Bofur’s chest and crying. Bofur’s hands immediately went to rub Bifur’s back and through his hair. “You’re alright…” Bofur soothed. “It’s all okay… No one’s hurt…”

 Brian and Peg rushed over to them. Bifur rolled off of the younger man, covering his face with his hands. Though that did little to muffle his crying. Bofur sat up and scooted back to give Peg space, as his aunt dropped to her knees behind Bifur. Brian kneeled behind Bofur, putting his hands on his son’s shoulders.

 Peg bent over Bifur, practically covering his upper body with hers. One of her hands went to the back of Bifur’s, and the other went to stroke through his hair. Her nose nuzzled his temple. She didn’t say anything for a minute, only soft hums coming from her mouth.

 Bifur folded his legs up to his chest as his mother started speaking softly in Gaelic. Gentle words of encouragement and assurance. Once Bifur had relaxed enough, Peg gathered him into her lap and gently pried his hands from his face. Bifur opened his eyes and looked out through tear-blurred vision. One hand grasped his mother’s, and the other absentmindedly sifted through dried leaves on the ground.

 Peg let out a long breath, and switched to English. “Do you remember the trip to the Cliffside coast? You were twelve.” At Bifur’s nod, she chuckled. “Your da chasing you down the rocky beach… we’d brought a picnic lunch… Bofur got into the candy and wouldn’t settle down… You and I wading in the water…”

 Bifur’s hand tightened around Peg’s, and he moved backwards, closer to her.

 “The first time you got your hands on a piano… We had gone into the music store so I could get a new violin bow. I think you were six. It took a lot of effort to get you away from it so we could leave.”

 Bifur nodded, remembering everything she described himself. He slowly calmed as she went through more memories of Ireland. Eventually, Bifur turned over on his back, a little smile on his face. He signed, _‘You’re forgetting something.’_

 “What?”

  _‘Memories of here.’_

 Peg nodded, then let out a breath. “How are you feeling?”

  _‘Better… not completely. I’m sorry.’_

_“No need for sorry. You didn’t hurt anyone,”_   Peg assured in Gaelic. In English, “We all have bad days, where we want to punch a wall or scream into a pillow.”

 Bifur sat up and pulled his mother into a loose hug, though it was a little hesitant, as though worried he still might hurt her.

 Peg responded in kind, and tightened the embrace. When they let go, Peg asked, “Are you able to come home now?”

 Bifur considered the question for a moment. Then he slowly nodded with a half-smile. They helped each other up to their feet, and Bifur pulled her into another embrace, this time not hesitant. Bofur and Brian approached and wrapped their arms around them.

 Peg leaned away enough to bring her hands up to caress Bifur’s face. _“You are still my wonderful son. Don’t ever doubt that.”_

 Bifur bit his lip, and nodded.

 

 Bofur had just pulled on his pajama pants when there was a knock on his bedroom door. He smiled as he opened it, knowing it was Bifur.

  _‘I didn’t want to be alone right now.’_

 Bofur noticed how tired his cousin looked, and with the lateness of the hour, and the kind of day he’d had, it was no surprise. “You mean you didn’t want to sleep by yourself tonight?”

 Bifur nodded. _‘Still… sorting through things.’_

 Bofur gestured for the older man to come in, and closed the door behind him. He turned to grab a tanktop from his dresser, and before he could pull it on, Bifur tapped the back of his shoulder. Bofur spun around, to see the statement, _‘You weren’t afraid of me, in the forest.’_

 Bofur shook his head, then put on the shirt. “No, I wasn’t.” He turned off the lights, then took Bifur’s hand and pulled him to the bed. He turned on the bedside lamp, and gestured for his cousin to climb in to bed. Once settled under the blanket, Bofur pulled Bifur close until the other’s head rested on his shoulder. “I know I have no reason to be afraid of you.”

 Bifur seemed content with that answer, and laid his arm over Bofur’s waist. After a short moment, he signed, _‘Missing Bombur here.’_

 Bofur chuckled and grabbed his phone. He took a picture of them, and texted it to his brother with the message ‘He’s doing alright. We’re missing you.’

 Bombur replied a minute later. ‘Save me a space in the Ur snuggle pile next time I’m home.’

 Bofur showed the text to Bifur, who took the phone and responded, ‘Will do.’ Then he typed, ‘Thank you, for not being afraid,’ and showed Bofur.

 Bofur read and erased the message. He lowered his face to the top of Bifur’s head and smiled in the hair.


	23. Chapter 23

 November came, and with it, Bifur’s thirty-first birthday. His family and friends put more emphasis on it than usual. Bifur was a man of simple tastes, but he didn’t complain about the excitement from the others. He knew they needed it, and they had all, himself included, done the same for Dwalin and Ori for their first birthdays after their incidents.

 And wasn’t that something, to know he was the third in their extended family to have survived something he probably shouldn’t have, and was left with a scar to show for it. Their scars were in less conspicuous places, but they all had them. He could only hope that he would be the last of them to have a traumatic near-death.

 ********

 After Christmas, Bifur started back up his job of woodcarving commissions. He had been ecstatic at the email from a former client to do more work for them. Beginning to work again gave him that sense of confidence that he was making progress. While he doubted he would ever go back to teaching piano, he at least had this again.

 While sketching ideas for a plaque-sized wooden board engraving, Bofur came into Bifur’s room, and looked over his drawings. He picked up one paper on the bed, full of Celtic knotwork and shapes. “This is quite nice.”

 Bifur looked up from his current sketch. Bofur turned the page in his hands so he could see it. Bifur nodded and signed, _‘Just something to get me thinking.’_

 “Still good.” Bofur looked over the page again. “You know, I’ve fancied getting a tattoo."

 Bifur tapped his pencil against his cousin’s leg to get his attention, then signed with a little grin, _‘Nori’s bad influence?’_

 “Perhaps, aye,” Bofur chuckled. “His new one is quite nice.”

  _‘A badger, right?’_

 “Yeah. Another one inspired by you.” Bofur smiled at the memory of Bifur giving them the carved fox and badger when they were young. “Anyway, been thinking about getting one myself. You think you could design one for me?”

 Bifur tilted his head. _‘What are you thinking of?’_

 “Maybe… a badger claw? But done in the knotwork style.”

 Bifur considered the idea for a moment. _‘Why a badger?’_

 Bofur took a breath. “Because… like with Nori and the fox, I identify with it. Which explains why Nori got it. But also… I think of you, too.”

 Bifur nodded in contemplation. _‘I’ll do my best.’_

 Bofur hugged his cousin. “Thanks, Bif.”

 A couple days later, Bifur showed the younger man a drawing before dinner. Bofur grinned widely. “I love it,” he whispered with a gentle bump of their foreheads together.

 ********

 In February, Bombur came home for a weekend to visit. Everyone younger than Bifur piled into the Mattocks-Smith house to play video games and have fun, partially to celebrate Gandalf Grey from Middle Earth Records approaching them after their last gig. Everyone older than Bifur had decided to go out and have their own get-together. Bifur had decided to stay with the younger group, to make sure things didn’t get too out-of-hand.

 Bifur came down from Bofur’s room, where he had been playing the younger man’s keyboard with the headphones on. He watched the boys playing a racing game, and grinned at the way Nori, instead of encouraging Bofur, was hugging him from over the back of the sofa and trying to physically distract him.

 Bifur tapped Nori’s shoulder and asked, _‘Aren’t you supposed to be helping him?’_

 Nori grinned and leaned in close to be heard over the music. “More fun this way.”

 Bifur chuckled and shook his head before going to the kitchen for a snack. He bypassed the bowls of chips and dip and candy on the dining table, and went to rummage through the fridge for leftovers. Then he thought to ask if they had ordered pizza already.

 He closed the fridge, and made a shouting noise to get someone’s attention. His head suddenly spiked with pain as he did so, and he slammed his fist down on the counter in response.

 But through the pain, he realized he had not simply made a shouting noise. There had been more to it. He brought his hand up to his mouth in shock. Had he really done what he thought he did?

 The music in the living room was turned down, and Bofur walked into the kitchen. “Heard something slam in here. You alright?”

 Bifur furrowed his brow, and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. At the lack of distinct answer, Bofur stepped in close and put a hand on the older man’s arm. “Bif?”

 Bifur took a few short breaths, needing to prepare himself to try this. The first sound he made was similar to what he was used to hearing from himself. He quickly closed his mouth, and closed his eyes. Hadn’t he just done this without thinking about it?

 Bofur’s free hand grabbed his cousin’s other arm. “What’s going on?”

 Bifur swallowed heavily, and took another couple of short breaths. “B-Bo… fur.” His head flared with pain again, and his hands tightly grasped the sides of Bofur’s shirt.

 All Bofur could do was stare at his cousin, eyes wide and mouth slightly open.

 Bifur swallowed and prepared to do it again, ignoring the pain building in his head. He barely noticed the others come into the kitchen to see what was happening. “Bo… f-fur.” His voice didn’t sound like he remembered it. It seemed lower and more growly. But he knew he was still saying his cousin’s name.

 “You…” was all Bofur could find to say.

 The others were a little more vocal with what they saw, though their voices were very hushed.

 The fourth time Bifur said it, his knees buckled, and he gripped Bofur’s shirt tighter. Bofur caught him before he could fall. Bombur broke away from the others and added his support to his cousin.

 Bifur looked up to Bofur’s face, trying to fight the growing pain in his head. Bombur recovered from the shock first, and pulled them both over to a chair, pushing his cousin down onto it.

 Bifur slowly blinked, no longer able to ignore the consequences of what he’d done. His head pitched forward, and he turned it to rest his face against Bofur’s torso. His fists in Bofur’s shirt loosened as his strength faded.

 Bofur’s mouth opened and closed a few times before he was able to speak. “You… you said my name.” His voice was quiet and disbelieving.

 Bifur weakly looked up at him, and forced the pain down enough to put on a watery smile.

 After a short moment, Gimli asked, “Should he lay down or something?”

 “And call his mum?” Ori added.

 Bifur raised a dismissive hand, though it wasn’t convincing that he was fine. He continued blinking slowly, and his eyes started to unfocus slightly.

 “I’ll get his meds,” Bombur said before going to the medicine drawer.

 Bofur lowered his forehead to his cousin’s, smiling at the sound of his name being said by the one person he had needed to hear it from.

 Bombur quickly returned to them with two pills and a cup of water. Bofur leaned back to let Bifur swallow the pain medicine and water. Bifur’s hand dropped to his thigh and his fingers curled.

 Bofur tilted Bifur’s face up. “You’ll be alright, aye?”

 Bifur let out a small smile in response, though his eyes remained slightly unfocused.

 “We’ll get you upstairs to your bed anyway,” Bombur said. “Can you stand?”

 The two younger men helped Bifur to his feet, which he was unsteady on. They took an arm each and slung them over their shoulders to support him as much as he needed. As they passed the others, Ori gave him a quick hug. Everyone else followed, and Bifur smiled at their affection, giving them a little nuzzle with his cheek.

 They all followed until the foot of the stairs, where they watched Bofur and Bombur help him up to his room.

 Bifur was lowered onto the edge of his bed, and he keeled over to the side until his head rested on a pillow. Bombur picked up his legs and swung them to be on the bed. “Need your ipod?”

 Bifur gripped the edge of the blanket as Bofur pulled it over him. He nodded to Bombur, and gratefully took the earphones and put one in.

 “Want us to call your ma?” Bombur asked.

 Bifur shook his head. _‘Let her have fun without worrying about me,’_   he signed.

 “We’ll tell her when she gets home, then.” Bofur kneeled in front of the older men and pressed their foreheads together. He whispered, “Thank you. I love you. Thank you.”

 Bifur kissed the side of Bofur’s mouth, and raised his hand to press against Bofur’s chest for a moment. Bombur lightly petted his hair.

 When Bofur rose, he said, “We’ll keep the music down for you.”

 Bifur nodded, and closed his eyes. He heard the lightswitch turn the light off, and the door close.

 Saying Bofur’s name again… it had physically hurt, but it had been entirely worth it, for both of them.

 

 Bifur slowly woke to a comforting hand going through his hair. He turned his head up and opened his eyes. His mother was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at him in the dim lighting. There was a little smile on her face, through there was also concern in her expression.

 Bifur took out his earphone, and glanced at his ipod. He sighed at the sight of the black screen from dead battery. Then he looked back up to Peg, returning her smile.

 “They told me what happened. Quite excited to.” At her son’s nod, Peg bent over and said in Gaelic, _“I am so proud of you.”_

 Bifur shifted until he was higher on the pillow. Then he closed his eyes to focus, and do what he had done earlier. A few sounds came out, and he blew out a frustrated breath.

 “You don’t have to do it for me. Especially not with how much it hurt you to do.”

 Bifur bit his bottom lip and glanced down to his hand on the blanket. He wanted to do it again. If only to prove that he could. But his head still was hurting from it. He hadn’t yet recovered.

 Peg gently tilted Bifur’s head back up to meet her eyes. “You did it for the one who needed to hear it. I’m happy for that. The two of you… you needed this.”

  _‘Do you… think this might lead to more talking?’_   Bifur signed.

 “I don’t know. Of course I hope so. I would… we would all love that. How much I want to hear your voice…” Peg placed her hand on her son’s arm. “But I don’t want you to force it. The boys said you nearly fainted.” She let out a long breath. “I hope you’re not taking this the wrong way.”

 Bifur shook his head. _‘I shouldn’t be hurting myself. Could make all this worse somehow.’_

 “Aye, something like that. But don’t forget that I am so very proud of what you did earlier.” Peg lightly squeezed his arm, with a wistful expression. “Bofur said the last thing you ever said was his name. His name being the first thing…”

  _‘Only made sense.’_

 “Aye, that it did.” Peg pressed her mouth to the top of Bifur’s head in a soft kiss. When she leaned back, she asked, “How do you feel?”

  _‘Bit better.’_

 “They left you a couple slices of pizza, if you’re up to eating anything.”

 Bifur stretched his legs under the blanket, and grinned, ‘ _I am hungry.’_

 Before they left the bedroom to go downstairs, Bifur pulled his mother into a long and tight embrace.

 ********

 Bifur knocked on the half-open door of Bofur’s room, and quickly signed an apology at the younger man’s startled flinch on his keyboard bench.

 Bofur gave a quick smile in greeting, and pulled the keyboard headphones down around his neck. Bifur noticed the open notebook on the instrument, and asked, _‘Working on something?’_

 Bofur rubbed the back of his neck. “Aye… not for our next album, though. Something more… private.”

 Bifur stepped inside. His expression asked the question.

 Bofur considered for a moment before nodding. “This is something you should get to take a look at.” He gestured for his cousin to join him on the bench. He picked up the notebook, but held it to his chest as Bifur took the offered spot. “It’s… it’ll be a year in a couple days. I thought… I thought I should do something for it.”

 Bifur nodded, his thoughts on the upcoming date as well this past week.

 “So… when you came in, I was thinking of how the melody should go. Don’t have anything solid, yet.” Bofur placed the notebook on the music stand to let his cousin read. He quickly added, “This isn’t necessarily the final version of the lyrics, either. I mean-“

 Bifur laid a hand on Bofur’s arm to calm his nerves. Bofur stopped himself from babbling on, and let Bifur read the words. Bifur could see the pen scratch marks through on the other side of the page, and wondered how many pages of abandoned and half-formed ideas there were, and how long Bofur had been at this. Then he started reading the in-progress song.

 “The title was the easiest part,” Bofur said quietly.

 The word ‘guardian’ was underlined at the top of the page. Bifur nodded in response to Bofur’s statement, then kept reading.

 When Bifur was done, he stared at the page for a moment. His eyes had blurred from watering with emotion. A lump started to form in his throat. He leaned over to softly headbutt the sides of their heads.

 “What do you think? Be honest if you don’t think it’s good. I’m open to any suggestions.”

  _‘Beautiful,’_   Bifur signed before wiping his eyes.

 “You really think so?”

 Bifur raised his eyebrows at him. Then he gave a soft smile and kissed his cousin’s temple. His eyes watered again, and he closed them, and brought their foreheads together. His next breath came out shuddered through the lump in his throat, and the power of the words on the page.

 When they pulled apart, Bofur waited a moment for Bifur to collect himself before pressing his finger to a section of the lyrics. “I was thinking of reworking this part. What do you think?”

 Bifur considered the words for a second. _‘What were you thinking?’_

 “Don’t really know yet. Just not sure if it flows as nicely as the rest.”

 Bifur thought about it, and turned his head when he realized Bofur was staring at him.

 Bofur quickly turned his gaze back to the notebook. “Would you… would you like to write this with me? The music, and help me with the lyrics?”

 Bifur froze at the question, though not from shock. It only made sense, with how… connected they were through not only music, but through everything. He’d helped Bofur with a song for their first band album.

 “Bif?” Bofur prompted.

 A wide smile spread across the older man’s face. Then he threw his arms around Bofur in a hug.

 Bofur’s smile was just as wide when they separated. Then they turned to the keyboard. “So, I was thinking something slow, like a lullaby maybe…”


	24. Chapter 24

 March 2016

 “You alright?” Bofur asked his cousin, sitting on the armchair across from him.

 Bifur took a sip of water and nodded with a little smile. _‘First time performing like this,’_   he signed.

 Bofur tilted his head. “You’ve done freelance piano for theater and stuff before.”

  _‘Not the same. Besides, it’s been so long since I’ve done that.’_

 “Nervous, then?”

 Bifur tilted his head to mirror Bofur’s. _‘As though you’re not?’_

 “Fair enough,” Bofur shrugged. “This is so different from what I’ve done with the band, I’m mostly nervous if people will like it.” Bofur suddenly moved forward in his chair. “If people do like it… what do you think about doing a whole album with me?”

 Bifur moved forward as well, and laid a hand on Bofur’s knee for a few seconds. Then he signed with a little grin, _‘Let’s get through this first.’_

 “Aye, that’s an idea,” Bofur grinned back.

 They both looked to the door when it opened, and Bilbo and a show assistant poked their heads in. At Bilbo’s nod and the assistant’s gesture, they got up and followed them.

 “You ready?” Bilbo asked.

 “Aye. Even if we weren’t, too late to back out now,” Bofur answered.

Bilbo raised his brow. “Why would you back out?”

 Bofur shook his head. “No reason.”

 Once they got to the curtain separating the backstage area from the talk show set, Bifur stepped in front of Bofur and started straightening his cousin’s hat and brushing his shoulders. Bofur affectionately swatted him away with a whispered, “I look fine.” He moved forward and slightly opened the curtain to peek out. He couldn’t see much, but he’d been doing this long enough to know how it would all go. Still, he had to take a deep breath.

 Bifur put a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and turned him around. He leaned in close to bump their foreheads together. _‘You’ll do fine,’_ he whispered in Gaelic.

  _‘We’ll do fine,’_   Bofur corrected in the same language.

 The assistant waited until they separated to hand Bofur a glass of water, and mouthed “One minute.”

 Bofur took a drink and closed his eyes for a moment, listening to Stephen Colbert finish his set and starting to introduce him. Then he turned and grinned to Bifur and Bilbo. A few seconds later, the assistant pulled open the curtain and he walked out to the applause of the audience.

 Bofur did a little bow when he reached the chair, noticing his father, aunt, and brother in the front row, then shook Colbert’s hand before taking a seat.

 “I think there were a few marriage proposals in that,” Colbert said in greeting.

 Bofur made a fake-nervous expression. “They’ll have to take that up with Nori…”

Bifur and Bilbo watched the interview from the small part in the curtain. Bifur turned to the other man, and tapped his shoulder to get his attention. Bilbo turned and nodded in question.

 Bifur signed slowly enough for Bilbo, who was still learning, to follow. _‘If this goes well… Bofur and I were thinking of doing an album.’_

 Bilbo signed back, _‘That would be great.’_

  _‘Would you be willing to handle that with us?’_

 “Of course I would,” Bilbo whispered. He shrugged, “I’ll already be handling Kili and Tauriel, so why not?”  

 Bifur teasingly grinned. _‘Sure you could handle that?’_

 Bilbo gave him a pointed stare. “If I can handle the five of them well enough, along with the rest of you, then I can manage four of you.”

 Bifur stifled his little laugh with his hand. He had to bite his lip to stop from laughing harder at Bilbo leaning in close and whispering, “That is not to be taken as a challenge.” There was a still warmth in the warning. Bifur shrugged, _‘I can make no promises.’_

 Bilbo stepped back with a shake of his head, and went back to watching the interview.

 Bofur took a sip of water as Colbert said, “So, you’ve got something special for us tonight?”

 “Aye, a song. We’ve already done a music video, which will be released in… a couple days. But we thought why not do it here, too?”

 Colbert gestured to where the piano was set up. “Go on, then. I’m sure we’ll love it.”

 Bofur nodded and stood up to address the camera and the audience. “First, I have to introduce someone. Fans who have watched our vlogs and social media might recognize this man as one of our security guys.” He glanced over to the curtain. “But he’s more than that. He’s my cousin, and yet he’s more than that.” Bofur’s gaze focused on his family. “He’s someone who’s been there for me my entire life. Always.” His gaze went back to the camera. “Without him, I wouldn’t be here today. And I mean that in more than just the ‘he taught me everything I know’ kind of way. It’s also in what could be the most dramatic way you can think of.” He closed his eyes for a second, then swung his arm in the direction of the curtain, “Here to do this with me, Bifur Smith.”

 Bifur stepped out with a broad smile to the applause. He signed, _‘I hope you enjoy this, as much as we loved writing it,’_   which Bofur translated. Bifur looked to their family in the front row as he made his way to the piano and sat on the bench.

 Bofur followed him and stood in front of the microphone. He took off his hat and placed it on the bench next to his cousin, revealing the painted white streak in his dark brown hair to match Bifur’s.

 He took a breath, and slightly adjusted the mic stand to his height, and took his flute from the top of the piano. “This is a song we’ve written together, and it means a lot to us. It’s called ‘Guardian.’” He nodded to Bifur to start playing.

 At the soft sounds of Bifur’s fingers on the piano keys, both men relaxed, and simply let the music speak for them. Then Bofur began to sing, softly, like a lullaby. Between each verse, he accompanied Bifur’s piano with his flute.

 

_I was once told of a beautiful land,_

_High and green, far across the sea._

_You sang of the wonder that you once had,_

_And played that wonder for me._

 

_You said we’d go roving no more in the night,_

_No more rivers to cross._

_You played me a lullaby after each fright,_

_After each tear and each loss._

Bifur’s voice joined in, tender and Gaelic.

_So guide my hands on the keys._

_Without you, the notes don’t sound right._

_Guide my hand, my guardian,_

_And lead me back into the light._

 

_You sang me the stories of places you loved._

_Soft and clear, warm and dear._

_You played the bass while I played above,_

_Played with laughter and cheer._

 

_So guide my hands on the keys._

_Without you, the notes don’t sound right._

_Guide my hand, my guardian,_

_And lead me back into the light._

 

_Being human is nothing but fear,_

_Cold and dark, being apart._

_But though you’re in pain, love, our pain is to share._

_A guardian close to the heart._

 

_I’ll guide your hands on the keys._

_Without you, the notes don’t sound right._

_I’ll guide your hand, my guardian,_

_And lead you back into the light._

 

_Through the pain,_

_Through the tears,_

_Through the dark and the night._

_Through the blood,_

_And through our fears,_

_We finally found the light._

 

_Guide my hands on the keys._

_Without you, the notes don’t sound right._

_Guide my hand, my guardian,_

_And lead me back into the light._

 

_Guide my hand, my guardian,_

_We’ll find our way into the light._

 

 Bofur let his flute fade out, leaving the piano and his cousin’s Gaelic, which then also slowly faded to silence. The silence was held for a few seconds, before the audience began to clap. Bofur grinned at a certain three people in the front row, who’s eyes, like his, were shining with emotion. Then he found himself pulled into a hug from Bifur.

 When they pulled apart, they linked hands and bowed to the audience and the camera. Colbert stepped forward to sign off the show. They both turned to see Bilbo out of the camera’s view, smiling at them.

 Bofur and Bifur went over to the audience to embrace Bombur, Brian, and Peg. In the group hug, their eyes found each other, and they smiled, not needing to speak the identical thought in their minds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Guardian" song written by Butterflyslinky
> 
> Thank you all for reading and commenting. Writing this has been such a pleasure.


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